The Happy Red Prince
by LT2000
Summary: Seven Year AU. Suppose the Dursleys had not been Harry's only living relations. How might the young hero that we know and adore have been changed by a loving childhood? The differences might not be as universally positive as one might think. Discontinued.
1. Different Beginnings

**Prologue: Azalea Evans – A Different Beginning**

Disclaimer: If you've seen it before, it belongs to J.K. Rowling. Otherwise, it's mine. Naturally, I'm making no money off this. Am I the only one that finds these things to be extremely repetitive and pointless?

* * *

The morning was rather chilly in the town of Little Whinging, Surrey, on the second of November, in the year 1981. Halloween had just passed, always a time of grumbling for the small suburban populace, themselves being perfectly ordinary folk that held no stock by such maddening foolishness as ghosts and goblins. This year, however, had proven to be particularly vexing, with strange, unidentified people in robes dancing and celebrating in the streets as if England had just won the World Cup, no regard whatsoever to decency or propriety. Owls darted about hither and thither in broad daylight. But for the Dursley family of Number Four, Privet Drive, those strange happenings were the least of their concerns. Mrs. Dursley's younger sister and her husband had passed away under suspicious circumstances the previous evening and their infant son had been left on his aunt and uncle's doorstep, accompanied by a mysterious note. The man of the house had fumed and raged for hours on end about being unceremoniously dumped with and expected to keep one of "those freaks" in his residence. 

And indeed, the boy's parents, Lily and James Potter, had not been what people such as the Dursleys would term as "normal people." They were, in fact, a wizard and a witch, and rather talented and powerful ones, at that. However, the times were dark in the secluded magical world in which the Potters had lived. The Dark Lord Voldemort terrorized the population, bent on purging those not of pure magical heritage from the wizarding world with the assistance of his ruthless followers, masked wizards and witches known to their peers as "Death Eaters." Just a little over a year before, a Prophecy had been proclaimed foretelling the possible circumstances of the evil overlord's demise. A special child, born at the tail end of the seventh month to parents who had thrice defied the Dark Lord, would have the power to rid the world of his foul presence. As fate would have it, young Harry Potter fulfilled both conditions.

Hoping to nip the situation in the bud, Voldemort had personally invaded the young couple's home in the wizarding village of Godric's Hollow. James had been the first to fall, dueling the dark wizard with all of his might in hopes of buying his wife and newborn son enough time to flee to safety. His efforts had not been enough. Voldemort had crossed over James's fallen body and proceeded up the stairs, intercepting Lily inside the baby's nursery. She threw herself on front of the Dark Lord's lethal curse in order to protect her offspring, unknowingly placing a powerful protective charm on young Harry. Unaware of this, her murderer attempted to fulfill his objective and slay the child of the Prophecy, only to have his own spell backfire onto him, reducing him to a mere shade of his former self.

Not that Vernon Dursley knew or cared about any of that, really. What he did know, however, was that one of those bloody freaks had come and left this other little freak on their front porch, with a letter instructing that it was to stay there and be looked after, and threatening certain repercussions if he and his wife did otherwise. As much as he would have liked to have dumped the little monster off in some back alley and left it to die, he had a lovely wife and an infant son of his own to protect. And that was another problem. Vernon ruddy well would not have this...this thing corrupting his little Dudley with its freakishness. If he had to keep it, he would stamp the unnaturalness right out of it, before the disease could fester and spread. It was his duty to the civilized world, and he intended to do it by any means necessary.

Vernon had called in sick at work that morning, leaving young Polkiss in charge of the office. Hopefully the little nance wouldn't bugger things up too badly. And if he did, Vernon hadn't fired anybody worth mentioning in a few months, so he was overdue. Meanwhile, he and his wife were discussing what to do with the little freak. At the moment, it was sleeping in the cupboard underneath the stairs, still bleeding like a sieve from some unnatural wound on its forehead. Petunia had gone into the kitchen to take a telephone call, leaving Vernon with his mug of brandy-sweetened coffee, muttering angrily to himself.

"Ruddy freaks, leaving us with that little abomination. I'll take care of its unnaturalness, yes sir. Beat it out of the brat with a hammer if I have to."

Vernon turned his head upon hearing his wife, Petunia's hurried footsteps. She ran into the room as if chased by the Devil himself, a terrified look on her face.

"Vernon!"

"What's the matter, Petunia dear? Freaks calling up here to threaten us! I'll..."

"No, but it's almost as bad. That was my mother. She knows we have the little freak, and she wants to see him. She's already on her way! Hurry, we have to get him cleaned up! You know what will happen if she sees him like he is right now! My mother was always partial to those freaks!"

Vernon's face turned ashen. Petunia's mother, Azalea Evans. She was the veritable bane of his existence, and one of the most wealthy and powerful women in all of Surrey. Azalea had always favored Petunia's unnatural whore of a sister, and she would make no end of trouble if she came and saw the freak in the state that it by all rights deserved to be in. If Vernon had any luck, she might just take the worthless little creature away with her, and they would both leave him and his wife alone. Still, they had to prepare for her coming now.

"Right. Go on upstairs and get a clean change of clothes from Dudley's room. I'll try and stop the bleeding on the freak's forehead."

With a frenzied nod, the horse-faced Petunia Dursley hurried to comply.

* * *

Meanwhile, a violet-colored limousine drove briskly down the residential streets of Little Whinging, just now making a turn onto Wisteria Walk. In the middle compartment, a borderline elderly woman sat clutching a handbag and a walking stick in her respective arms. Dressed in a yellow Sunday dress, despite it being Wednesday, a matching large feathered hat, and heeled shoes was Azelea Lynn Evans, young Harry Potter's maternal grandmother and the most feared and respected woman in the entire county. 

Azalea herself was of colonial stock, though somewhat diluted, as both of her own parents had been born and raised in Britain. Her grandmother had been the wife of a colonel in the Confederate Army during the United States Civil War. Both she and her husband were old Southern aristocracy. However, her grandfather was killed in battle, and her grandmother fled from the advancing Union troops across the seas with as much of her husband's assets as she could muster. She would later marry again, this time to a moderately wealthy British businessman, and give birth to Azalea's mother through that union.

Azalea herself had been quite the beauty in her youth, and married into the Evans family, which ran the oldest and most powerful law firm in Surrey. Her husband, Augustus Evans, became head of the firm with his father's retirement, and had himself been the most feared solicitor in the area. He had died half a decade ago, of a stroke incurred while in his office. He had quite literally worked himself to death. His younger brothers still controlled the firm, though, and treated their eldest's widow with complete deference. She was, therefore, a woman not to be crossed lightly.

She bore only her two daughters, and now her favorite, her dear, sweet Lily, had been murdered in her own home along James. Her younger son-in-law had been a refined and gentlemanly sort of man from a good family, and both Azalea and her husband had absolutely adored him. He and Lily had been at one another's throats for most of their school years, but eventually saw the truth in each other and fell in love. A few years later, they gave birth to little Harry, who was the apple of his grandmother's eye. Harry looked every bit like his father, but had his mother's eyes, which Lily had inherited from her father. A sweet and innocent child doomed to a cruel destiny.

Oh, yes, Azalea knew about the Prophecy. Despite Albus Dumbledore's objections, Lily had confided the information in her mother. For her part, Azalea had always been somewhat mystified by the wizarding world. It was, in a word, unbelievable that such a complex society existed right under everybody else's noses. Azalea had been so excited at learning that her youngest daughter would be able to do real magic. It had been a breath of fresh air into her rather mundane and boring life. But now Lily was gone, and her only child thrust into the dubious care of Azalea's other daughter, Petunia, and her crude and boorish swine of a husband.

Thankfully, Azalea had made a few friends among the wizarding population over the years, one of them being Minerva McGonagall, the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and the head of James's school house. Minerva had been the one to personally inform the old woman of her daughter's passing, and had also relayed to her Harry's whereabouts, as that meddling old coot had placed Harry with the Dursleys despite Minerva's disapproval. Disapproval that was far from unfounded. Petunia had always despised Lily and would equally loathe her son, and Vernon was nothing short of a beast. Harry would find nothing but neglect and abuse in that household. And damned if Azalea was going to allow her beloved grandson to suffer at the hands of those creatures. She intended to have some very strong words with her daughter's former Headmaster if the two ever crossed paths again. She was snapped out of her fuming by a voice from the driver's compartment.

"We have arrived, Madam Evans."

"Good, thank you Parker. Let me out and then find somewhere to park the car. This may take awhile."

"Yes, madam."

Once out of her rather exotic limousine, Azalea drew herself up proudly and marched directly up the lawn of Number Four, Privet Drive. She became apprehensive at hearing a baby's tortured wailing from outside the front door. Without knocking or waiting to be admitted, she opened the door and entered the house, rushing in the direction of the noise. She entered the hallway, and there witnessed a scene that would rightfully ruin one man's life, and also save a young hero from an abusive childhood. A purpled Vernon Dursley, accompanied by his wife, was roughly holding up a severely bleeding Harry Potter with a vice-like grip, shaking him violently and screaming for him to be silent, finally striking the infant forcefully across the face.

"BE QUIET, YOU RUDDY LITTLE FREAK!"

The force of the cuff across the face sent the crying baby tumbling from Vernon's grip. Petunia rather unwillingly caught Harry, glaring disdainfully at him all the while. Azalea had seen more than enough, and the old woman charged forward brandishing her loaded handbag.

"YOU ANIMAL!"

Vernon had just enough time to turn around before the handbag met his mustached face head on, the impact shattering his nose and left cheekbone. The beefy man crumpled to his knees, bleeding profusely from the injured body part. Rage not sated, Harry's grandmother, who had always been an active woman, and whose strength had not yet failed her, yanked one of Vernon's heavy iron golfing clubs from its bag near the cupboard door. The old lady rained blows down on her hated son-in-law, having no qualms about bludgeoning Harry's abusive uncle on his unprotected head and face. Vernon attempted to shield himself with his arms, but with limited effectiveness. Petunia gingerly placed her infant nephew on the kitchen table and moved in to intercede. By that point, her husband had long since lost consciousness.

"Mother, please! Stop this before you kill him!"

The old lady ceased her assault on Vernon for just long enough to whirl around and backhand Petunia with all of the force that she could muster. Harry's aunt grabbed onto a chair for support, but still tumbled to the ground bawling her eyes out. Azalea turned and glared at her eldest daughter.

"You ungrateful bitch! I'm not through with you yet, mark my words!"

After this latest effort, some of the adrenaline had ceased flowing through the old woman and she keeled over slightly, using Vernon's six-iron as a replacement for her discarded walking stick and breathing heavily. Parker, Azalea's butler and personal chauffeur, came rushing into the house, having heard the confrontation from outside.

"Madam Evans, is everything all right? What's all this commotion?"

"Parker, go into the kitchen and call a constable. That brute was abusing my grandson, and I intend to see him prosecuted."

"But, madam...he looks to be more dead than alive. If a constable sees..."

The old woman cut him off.

"The authorities in this town will have no sympathy for a child abuser, nor would they so much as dare to challenge my word. As soon as the constable arrives, phone Robert at the firm and tell him to expect us soon. This foul creature will rot in prison or worse, or else my name isn't Azalea Lynn Evans."

"Y-yes, madam."

With that, the old woman slowly made her way over to the wailing baby and scooped him up. Grabbing a white towel from a nearby cabinet, she attempted to stop the bleeding from the unhealed curse wound marking his forehead and rocked him gently. Harry calmed down somewhat from the loving attention.

"That's a good boy, Harry. Calm down for grandma. Everything's going to be all right from now on. I won't let these beasts hurt you any longer..."

Petunia crawled over to her prone husband, trying to shake him back to his senses, still sniffling like a small child at being slapped by her aged mother.

"Oh, Vernon...I'm so sorry..."

That comment only served to enrage Azalea again.

"Do not feel pity for that beast! On your feet, Petunia!"

The younger woman shamefully obeyed, as a pair of constables barged into the house. The shorter of the two respectfully addressed the old lady.

"Could you tell us what's happened here, Madam Evans?"

"Of course, constable. My youngest daughter passed on the other day, and her infant son here was confided to the care of these filthy beasts. I came to the house to inquire into his well being and found that swine on the ground over there beating on this poor baby to quiet him. I smacked him over the face with my handbag and whacked the gristle out of him with a golfing club, and he deserves far worse."

Both law enforcement officials looked at the bleeding child in Azalea's arms, and then scowled balefully down at Vernon. The Muggle policemen couldn't have known that the wound on Harry's forehead was actually due to a botched Killing Curse from the Dark Lord, and the old woman had no intention of enlightening them. With a nod from the lead constable, his second handcuffed Vernon and dragged the porcine man towards the front door of Number Four. Jerking his head back towards the retreating pair, the constable again spoke to the old lady.

"Don't you worry about a thing, Madam Evans. My wife's old man's a county judge, and I'm sure that he'll be more than willing to hear this case. If your fellows will prosecute him, mine will make sure he gets tossed away for a good long time."

Azalea smiled contentedly.

"That would suit me just fine, constable."

The policeman's eyes widened a bit as Harry's grandmother dabbed away more of the blood from the infant's forehead, revealing a cut shaped like a bolt of lightning.

"Excuse me, madam, but is that by any chance Harry Potter?"

The old woman looked back at him guardedly.

"Why do you ask?"

"My oldest son's in his sixth year now at that certain boarding school up in Scotland. Top of his class. We keep up a subscription with their newspapers. That little boy is a hero."

"He certainly is, and he'll be treated like one from now on. What's your name, sonny?"

"Glad to head it. The name's Adam Dawlish. My son's aiming to enter the Auror academy once he finishes his regular schooling."

"A noble profession. My late son-in-law was an Auror."

"I know. James Potter was in his last year when my Brian started school. My son idolized him. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to be heading back down to the station. I want to make sure that your other son-in-law gets the proper welcome from the boys."

Constable Dawlish left with that remark, which also stirred a fresh round of wailing within Petunia. Azalea reared back and slapped her to the floor a second time. The old woman stared down at her stunned daughter with contempt.

"Even after this, you would still stand up for that man. Freshen up, get dressed, and grab that pig's son, Petunia. We're going down to see your Uncle Robert."

"U-Uncle Robert? But why, mother?"

Azalea sneered hatefully at her only remaining child. Robert Evans was her husband's eldest brother, the second son of their generation. He was now at the head of the family firm, and the old lady had a few requests to make of him.

"Are you completely daft, Petunia? Fine, then. I'll spell it out for you. First, we're going to make sure that your pig of a husband is prosecuted to the full extent of the law. I'll give my statement, and you're going to corroborate it."

Petunia visibly regained some of her nerve and drew herself up.

"I will not help you to send my Vernon to prison. You've always hated him, and daddy did as well, from the very first time you laid eyes on him. You never thought he was good enough for an Evans. But I love him, and I'll never betray my wedding vows and see my Diddydums left without a father."

Azalea's sneer only broadened. She might have struck her errant daughter again, but her arms were tired now. She would simply force Petunia to obey. Vernon was only a hired manager at Grunnings, and had no actual stock in the company. The man's standing assets were limited, and Petunia had a child to raise. Alone, as both women knew that Vernon was going to jail regardless of Petunia's testimony. Azalea only wanted to subject the man to witnessing his wife's betrayal in his last hours as a free man. Regardless, Petunia had none of the requisite skills to provide for herself, so much less Dudley, and would have to rely on her mother's charity to be able to give the piglet a proper upbringing. The old woman had won this battle before it had even started, and spoke in a saccharine voice, albeit one laced with deadly poison.

"Yes, and just what about your son, dearest? How do you intend to raise him without Vernon? The swine is going under, rest assured of that. You went and got yourself pregnant before finishing university, and you have no skills with which to start a career of your own. Whatever good looks you once had have now fallen by the wayside, and you've got issue as well. You can forget finding another man to provide for you. You're going to do exactly as I tell you to do. You'll do it, Petunia, for the sake of your child's future."

Petunia looked to the ground, defeated.

"Yes, mother. I understand."

"That's a good girl. Second, since you seem to be so worried about those wedding vows, you're going to file to have your marriage to Vernon annulled. I'll not have a child abuser and a criminal connected to this family."

The younger woman didn't even bother to object this time.

"And, finally, you're going to sign a document transferring custody of young Harry over to me. Do as you will with that piglet of Vernon's, but I'll not have you mistreating this child because of some pathetic grudge of yours against your late sister."

Something flashed in Petunia's eyes.

"That isn't possible, mother."

"Oh, and just why is that, dearest?"

"The spells protecting the boy from his parents' murderer will only be maintained if he lives with me. At least, that's what the letter left with him says."

Azalea arched an aged eyebrow.

"Bring me this letter. I want to read it for myself."

Petunia scurried off and brought the letter left by Albus Dumbledore, as the old lady withdrew her reading glasses from her handbag. Just its author left Azalea with certain doubts of the content's truth. She had met the Headmaster on a few occasions during Lily's schooling, and had never liked or trusted the man. She saw him as an overbearing and manipulative sort, who hid behind half-truths and grandfatherly airs. Dumbledore was the type that had always been granted his way on things, and that would pursue his ends with a borderline fanatical obsession. Having been married to a law practitioner, a man who generally made his living through bending the truth, Azalea had been able to see more or less through Albus. Neither she nor her husband had ever said a word of it to Lily, though, as their daughter had completely adored the old wizard.

Still, the letter raised some concerns for the old lady, who knew absolutely nothing about magic aside from what her youngest had attempted to explain to her. She wasn't about to risk young Harry's safety over her personal dislike for Dumbledore. However, she also wouldn't just leave the child in Petunia's care, given the woman's personal hatred of Lily and certain bitterness at her husband's arrest. Azalea's only living daughter was the type that would blame Harry for her husband's abusive ways. No, simply leaving him here was unacceptable. However, there was one compromise that would both satisfy the blood magic and see to Harry's well being. She called for her butler.

"Parker! Come in here, please."

The man came as requested.

"Yes, madam?"

"Parker, phone up a moving company and contract them to begin preparing Mrs. Dursley's things for immediate transport while we're away at the firm. She'll be moving back into the mansion as soon as possible."

"Understood."

The old servant left as quickly as he had come. Meanwhile, Petunia decided to voice her displeasure at this latest proposal.

"I have no desire to return home, mother."

The old lady again glared at Petunia.

"And I have no desire to keep you, ingrate. Unfortunately for the both of us, according to this letter, you have to reside in the same home as Harry in order for him to be protected. I'll not leave this baby in your custody to be abused, nor do I want to have to move into this suburban dung heap in order to take proper care of him. Therefore, you're going to move back home, and I don't want to hear another word of complaint about it. I'll simply have to stomach your presence as best as I'm able. Now, go and freshen up like I told you earlier. We mustn't keep your Uncle Robert waiting. Unlike you, he has productive things to do with his time."

As her daughter stalked upstairs, Azalea took her infant grandson outside, needing a breath of fresh air herself. The scene that greeted her very nearly roused her temper again. Virtually every biddy housewife of Privet Drive was in assembly on the front lawn of Number Six, the entire party eagerly waiting to hear the full story and aftermath of Vernon Dursley's sudden arrest. The old lady spat in disgust. The suburbanite leeches made her physically ill, living their daily lives chomping at the bit for the next morsel of gossip. Neither were they quiet with their speculation, loudly talking about the fact that the beefy man looked as if he had been beaten with a sledgehammer as the constable dragged him from the house.

Soon enough, Parker had gone out to bring the limousine back around. Azalea entered with Harry, turning on the air conditioner to wait for her lazy giraffe of a daughter and Vernon's pig of a son. After a time, Petunia emerged from the house carrying Dudley. Azalea hadn't seen her other grandson since his birth, generally having had little contact with her eldest daughter, but he looked every bit the walrus that his father was. The old lady took out a baby bottle that she had grabbed from Petunia's kitchen before coming outside and filled it with milk from the limousine compartment's refrigerator. Harry drank up quite willingly, as the two stragglers entered a different section of the vehicle. That suited Azalea just fine, as she had no particular desire to have to tolerate Petunia for any longer than absolutely necessary. She rang up the driver's compartment.

"Let's go, Parker."

"As you wish, madam."

* * *

Some hours later, the limousine stopped at the front gates of Azalea's country estate in pastoral Surrey. The meeting with Robert Evans had gone exactly as the old woman had planned. Harry's great-uncle was positively livid upon hearing that Vernon had abused the baby boy, and had taken her statement immediately with a vindictive smile on his face. Petunia had not been far off the mark with her statement that her parents had long hated her swine of a husband. He had knocked her up at a party while she was in her third year at university, forcing her to drop out of school and take care of the child. He was, indeed, everything that Augustus and Azalea Evans detested, and that loathing spread to other members of the family. 

A crude and boorish product of an upstart middle class family, Vernon was in their eyes wholly unworthy of a daughter of an established wealthy clan such as theirs. Azalea and her husband had often derisively compared Vernon Dursley in the past to Stanley Kowalski of Tennessee Williams's famous play, "A Streetcar Named Desire." However, as he was the father of Petunia's unborn child, the family had little choice other than to accede to their union. At any rate, before their official marriage had even taken place, the family firm had started to compile a detailed record of Vernon's pattern of violent and erratic behavior, secretly relishing an opportunity to have him hauled before a court of law at some point. Their moment had come, and Robert was ready to pounce on Vernon like a starving jungle cat on its chosen prey.

Petunia had reluctantly corroborated her mother's story, and likewise signed annulment papers and a custody document, coerced again by both her mother and her uncle. Azalea was now Harry Potter's legal guardian, or would be as soon as the papers were filed. Presently, Parker opened the large gates of the estate and eased the limousine in. The property was filled with ornate floral gardens and fruit orchards, with a large artificial lake behind the house. A full stable and riding pasture marked a far corner of the property. The compound itself was grand as well, and consisted of two separate mansions linked by a common corner. Azalea and her husband had been the proprietors of the far mansion, while Robert and his family ran its nearer counterpart. The old lady's branch of the estate had largely been unoccupied for years, ever since the death of her husband. It pleased her immensely that she would have a child around to brighten the place up again, despite her sadness that the blessing had come at the cost of her favorite daughter's life. She looked down tearfully at the sleeping infant cradled in her arms.

"Welcome to your new home, little Harry. I'm not a witch, and thus I can't raise you as your mother and father would have, but I promise to do my best for you."

The car stopped in front of the far estate, and Azalea stepped out with her grandson, carrying Harry over the threshold into the house where he would begin his new life.

(End Prologue)

**Author's Note: This new story idea hit me yesterday afternoon. Since starting my other work a few months back, I've found that I don't always like to write for the utterly serious, ideologically driven, and completely ruthless Harry that I've put forth in Prince of Darkness. As a result, I've started up a second work in which I can paint from a different angle, as it were. This will be an alternate universe, obviously, and will take Harry through all seven years at Hogwarts. And before anybody worries, I have no intentions of abandoning my initial story. The next update for that work should be out sometime this weekend, if all goes according to schedule.**

**As for this experiment, Harry will most likely be the exact opposite as in my other story. Flighty, lazy, unmotivated, and generally a spoiled rotten little prince. I won't be turning him into a venomous little toad like Draco Malfoy, though. That would be too boring and cliché. You'll just have to stay tuned to see where this goes next. This prologue ended up being much longer than I had originally planned. I just had too much fun having Vernon and Petunia get the shit beaten out of them.**

**This was a blast to write, and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. Please, review and let me know if you think this is worth continuing.**


	2. Ten Years Later

_"Welcome to your new home, little Harry. I'm not a witch, and thus I can't raise you as your mother and father would have, but I promise to do my best for you."_

_The car stopped in front of the far estate, and Azalea stepped out with her grandson, carrying Harry over the threshold into the house where he would begin his new life._

**Chapter One: Ten Years Hence – To Diagon Alley**

Disclaimer: If you've seen it before, it belongs to J.K. Rowling. Otherwise, it's mine. Naturally, I'm making no money off this. Am I the only one that finds these things to be extremely repetitive and pointless?

* * *

Nearly ten full years after that fateful late autumn day, a young boy emerged from underneath the sheets of his  
king-sized bed. Dressed in a pair of green silk pajamas with golden leaf print and a matching nightshirt, he cantered gracefully over to the large vanity mirror situated against the far wall of his expansive bedroom and took in his appearance. He was a fair bit taller than most boys were at his age, standing at well over five feet. His skin sported a creamy and slightly pale complexion, and was every bit as soft as the silk garments that he wore. 

The child's face was likewise fair and smooth, completely devoid of any traditional masculine features. His cherry lips and striking emerald eyes stood out sharply against the backdrop of his face. Perhaps his most noticeable feature was his hair. Long and silky, it was jet-black and hung to about the middle of his back. Aside from a slight fringe plastered against his forehead, his hair was completely straight. The boy had always felt that it gave him a certain aristocratic look and absolutely refused any attempts to make him have it trimmed. He raised a hand, perfectly manicured and unsullied by physical toil, to said fringe, brushing aside the hair and fingering the spot where that horrid scar had once been located all those years ago.

For indeed, this child was none other than Harry Potter, the young hero of the entire magical world, though he preferred not to acknowledge the fact. During his earliest childhood, his forehead had borne a rather unnatural  
mark, an emerald green scar shaped like a lightning bolt. Harry's grandmother had told him one day of its origin and of the evil wizard that had claimed the lives of his mother and father. Naive and impressionable as he was, Harry had never even thought to question the existence of the "magic" of which the old lady had spoken. He couldn't even fathom the concept of his beloved grandmother ever being wrong or telling him a lie, and so he had simply believed.

She had also told him that his scar would make him into a false icon, and would be nothing but a curse to him. He had not known what she had meant, but had still perked up immediately when she had told him that she wanted to have it surgically removed. Even as a small child, Harry Potter had always been very conscious of his appearance, almost to the extent of an obsession, and viewed that lightning bolt scar as the only blemish upon his otherwise perfect features. He had therefore wholeheartedly agreed with his grandmother's proposal and had enthusiastically gone along with the procedure. He was snapped out of these memories by the sound of his door opening.

"Oh, look! Our phoenix has risen early today!"

Harry turned in the direction of the voice with a smile. The person standing in his doorway was Kim, a pretty girl of mixed Korean descent. She was roughly fifteen years of age, and was the unofficial head of Harry's small troupe of personal handmaids that largely made up his daily company. Her father, a Korean immigrant, had been working in Azalea's service as a gardener for longer than Harry could remember. Kim's mother wasa British woman whoh ad left her father shortly after giving birth to her, leaving him to raise the girl alone. They both eventually took up residence in the largely empty estate, and the young daughter began doing household chores where she could as soon as she was able so that she might help her father in earning his keep.

When Harry was old enough to walk around and talk, he had taken an instant liking to her. Even at that young age he was drawn to beauty like a moth to a flame. He had always preferred the company of girls and tended to follow Kim around while she did her work and talk to her. For her part, she had taken his attention in good humor and was unconditionally kind and sweet to the younger boy. Thisdid not go unnoticed by Azalea, who assigned her to be his personal attendant. The old lady was ecstatic to see him find somebody close to his own age to spend his time with, since he had steadily rejected most of the playmates that she had tried to arrange for him previously.

As Azalea's increasing age and deteriorating health forced her to delegate more of the household responsibilities to the staff, Kim ended up being the one that took care of Harry most of the time. Even though she was still largely a child herself, she did her job responsibly and young Harry tended to look to her as a big sister rather than a maid. She accompanied him everywhere, and they adored one another. When he was smaller, she even slept in his bed with him and comforted him during his frequent nightmares. Kim would still stay with him if he asked her to. Though other girls would eventually be added to his small entourage, Kim was always the first and favorite.

"Good morning, Kim!"

"You're looking handsome as always, Harry."

"You flatter me too much. I'm just out of bed!"

The sound of their voices brought the rest of his handmaids into the room. There were five in total, Kim included, all somewhat older than Harry but still in their teenage years. Melody and Sophia were, like Kim, both daughters of other servants at Azalea's estate. Christine was originally hired as summer help, and had become the object of the young Harry's attention during her stay. She was subsequently brought in permanently at his request. The last and oldest of his companions was Alyssa, an extremely attractive young woman of seventeen who had just come in recently, and under rather odd circumstances.

He had noticed her on the way home from one of his rare excursions from the confines of the estate. Azalea had taken him to a dinner party being held by one of her contemporaries in a neighboring town, an affair that he had found completely stifling. Alyssa had been standing on a busy street corner in the middle of the town dressed in rather provocative attire, and looked utterly miserable. Harry seemed to be able to tell somehow that she had nowhere to stay, and had pleaded with his grandmother to stop the car and pick her up. She was the prettiest girl he had ever seen, and he couldn't fathom the thought of such beauty wasting away on the streets and becoming dirtied through prostitution. Won over by her grandson's altruistic intentions, Azalea took the girl in despite her own misgivings. From that day, Alyssa viewed Harry as her savior and was more fiercely devoted to him than any of his other maids. Though still getting acclimated to her duties, she was a more than willing study and would do literally anything for Harry.

These pretty girls formed Harry's retinue of servants, though he would far sooner die than regard them as such. To him, they were all beloved companions and valued friends. They took care of him out of affection and tenderness rather than due to any feeling of obligation. The girls ate with him at his table and each had her very own room in his wing of the compound. Azalea had given her grandson the entire area in which to house his entourage or to use for whatever purposes he saw fit. In many respects, his girls were treated better than some members of the family were. After the usual round of morning greetings, Kim spoke with a mock admonishing tone.

"Come now. We've got to get you cleaned up and dressed quickly. The old lady's expecting you down in the parlor."

Harry just hummed in acquiescence in his soft dulcet voice and followed Kim into his bathroom. He loved and trusted all of his maids, but she was the only one he would openly allow to take care of his usual morning toilet. He looked about the brightly decorated restroom distractedly as she drew a hot scented bath. Even the commode was plated in silver. He only barely noticed when his oldest and dearest companion began divesting him of his nighttime apparel. Harry instinctually lifted his legs, one and then the other, to allow her to remove his silk pajama bottoms. This had been his morning routine for as long as he could remember. In his eleven years of life, Harry had not once ever even bathed or dressed himself. His girls did quite literally everything for him, and always with smiles on their pretty faces.

Kim took the naked boy gently by the hand and led him to the bath. The steaming water was a soft pink, its clear color dyed by the crimson rose petals that floated daintily on the surface. Harry caught a glimpse of his reflection. His lithe body completely lacked any sort of indicator of either muscle or fat. He had always eaten well, but also practiced a rather sedentary indoor lifestyle. Most of his days were frittered away in his quarters with his maids, reading the classics and his few preferred spell texts or playing cards or board games with the girls. One fact that he took a small amount of superior pride in was that he never watched television or played video games. He viewed such activities as disgustingly common, fit only for sloth ignoramuses such as his cousin Dudley. He allowed himself to think such thoughts as Kim's warm and soft hands rubbed the scented water and flower petals into his skin and cleaned his body. Remembering something from past years, he grabbed her hand as it trailed across his chest and ventured a rather personal question.

"Kim, why don't we ever bathe together anymore like we used to?"

Harry glanced up to see to older girl blushing slightly, obviously remembering those simpler times as well. Back when they were both smaller children, before any of the other maids in his entourage had come along and it was just the two of them, they took their baths together. Their young ages had deflected any criticism of impropriety. But now Harry was reaching his adolescence and Kim was already starting to blossom into womanhood. The boy was just too naive and innocent by nature to understand that it was wrong for them to do such things. She smiled in a coquettish way and leaned over him, brushing aside the wet fringe of hair covering his forehead and planting a chaste kiss in the middle, on the spot where he used to have his scar.

"You ask me this every day, Harry. We're getting too old to be allowed to bathe together. It just isn't proper."

Harry crossed his arms and scowled with a huff. Being soaking wet and nearly covered in rose petals, it made for a rather amusing sight.

"I don't care about proper! This is our special place and we should be allowed to do whatever we like. All that matters is that we're happy!"

Kim didn't seem at all bothered by this sudden change in temper. Of course, it could hardly have been a surprise to her. Harry was a capricious sort of boy, and tended to shift moods with alarming quickness. She knew how to deal with his tantrums, though, and kept smiling.

"Don't speak so wildly. You know what would happen if I got into the bath with you and your grandmother came to hear of it. She would surely think I was trying to vamp on you. She might even force me to leave you, and neither of us would want that to happen."

Harry closed his emerald eyes for a moment and nodded sullenly, already regretting his outburst. He was thankful that Kim had the patience of a saint. A lot of people would have given up on him a long time ago, but she always stayed by his side. All he wanted was for things to be simple again like they had been when he was small. Today was his eleventh birthday, but unlike most boys he hated it. It just marked one step closer to the time when he would have to abandon the life that he enjoyed. Harry despised the entire idea of growing up. He wanted to be a child forever.

"I understand. But you're the one talking nonsense, Kim. I would never let you go."

Such semi-romantic comments were also rather commonplace with Harry, who uttered them without any regard to their actual import, but she seemed nonetheless touched by the sentiment. She placed another kiss on the same spot.

"That's a very sweet thing to say, Harry. Now let's get you out of this bath and dressed. You mustn't keep the old lady waiting. It's hard enough for her to get out of bed lately."

"Okay."

Kim helped Harry to his feet and he stepped out of the tub. She took a soft towel from a nearby cabinet and dried him off, also removing the lingering petals from his face and body, as well as his hair. He came out smelling quite literally as fresh as a rose. Harry rinsed out his mouth and Kim helped put in his contact lenses. He had absolutely balked at the idea of wearing glasses. As his vision took a moment to adjust and sharpen, she ducked out into his bedroom. Harry ran a hand through his long hair, and Kim returned with a clean pair of underwear for him. Many boys his age would be extremely sheepish at the prospect of going into a room full of pretty older girls dressed only in a pair of boxer shorts, but he felt no compunction at all. Harry was completely at ease in the presence of his maids, a level of comfort that he felt with no other living person save for his grandmother.

Once his nakedness was at least somewhat covered, Harry followed Kim back out into his personal quarters and plopped down on his freshly arranged bed, using Alyssa's lap as a pillow. The young woman giggled at the sensation of the boy's damp hair against her bare skin and started playing with the matted fringe on his forehead. Kim looked over at him with a smile and headed back into the bathroom to clean up the mess in the tub. Melody walked over and gave him a somewhat teased order.

"Comfortable there, Harry? Roll over, so I can do something with that hair of yours."

Harry beamed back up at the girl,shifting his head to the side to grant her better access to his long flowing mane. He answered her in a soft tone.

"But what if I don't want to?"

"Then we'll all just have to tickle you into submission. Have you already forgotten what happened the last time you didn't do as we asked?"

"Please, anything but that! I swear to obey thy commands forever, my mistress!"

Melody laughed sweetly and leaned down to peck him on the end of the nose before starting to work his hair into a compact serpent. He wrinkled his nose in response and briefly took in the scent of her honey brown hair as it cascaded over his face. It actually smelled quite a bit like the color's namesake. Harry took a moment to reflect on how perfect his life was. He had a beautiful girl to bathe him in the morning, and now another was arranging his hair while he used a third as a head cushion. If anybody from outside his quarters could see him at that moment, they would think him to be a lecherous little scamp. But that really wasn't the case. He just loved the company of beautiful girls.  
To him they represented everything that was clean and refreshing in the world, while other males were akin to filth. He thought that perhaps he could tolerate the company of another boy if he were as handsome as Harry rather vainly held himself to be, but he had yet to meet anybody that even came close to that description. Melody quite literally had her hands full just keeping his hair in place and called over for help.

"Christine, be a dear and come give me a hand. It's all I can do to keep a handle on this mop."

Harry frowned again.

"Please don't make fun of my hair. It took a long time to grow."

Christine moved to reassure him, speaking in a noticeable French accent. Her beauty had always mystified Harry to a certain extent. She had long silvery hair and shining crystal blue eyes. The girl of sixteen seemed to emit a sort of intrinsic allure that turned most men into stuttering masses of jelly, as he had seen from watching her interact with others within the estate. Harry himself was able to resist whatever it was, but often complimented her on her good looks regardless. Christine seemed to appreciate the fact that he didn't drool at the sight of her and quite happily joined his personal crew.

"Pay no mind to 'zis one, 'Arry. You 'aze 'ze most beautiful 'air I 'ave ever 'zeen on a boy."

Harry smirked triumphantly. It looked a bit misplaced on his fair facial features.

"And the French are the absolute authority on fashion. So there you go."

"Where are your 'air bands, 'Arry?"

"I must have lost them the other day. Somebody please toss me my wand."

Alyssa reached over and grabbed a magical wand from the small desk next to Harry's bed. She seemed to be a bit uncomfortable about touching the object, a bit shy of eleven inches and made of willow, and handed it over to Harry almost reverently. It had been his mother's first wand, the one that she had used while at Hogwarts. Being a brilliant Charms student, Lily Evans had managed to break the Ministry detection charm on the object during the summer before her third year, allowing her to perform underage magic at home without being caught by the authorities. Harry's grandmother had practically crowed about his mother being every bit the rule breaker that his father had been, the difference being that she had always been far more subtle about it.

It passed into Harry's possession on his seventh birthday, along with all of his mother's old school textbooks. Before her death, Lily had left the entire lot with Azalea for safekeeping. His grandmother had exhorted him to study the material hard so that he would be fully prepared to be at the top of his class at Hogwarts. And he had tried at first, but he just found the theory behind magic to be so painfully boring. It was positively intolerable, not to mention the very entire idea of studying such disgusting disciplines as taking care of magical plants and brewing potions. And then there was the historical study of magic, which he didn't even want to think about. And thus, most of Lily's school books had been relegated to gathering dust in a far corner of her son's bookshelf.

Harry did have a few subjects that he positively loved. While he despised magical theory, he found the actual results to be positively fascinating. He had inherited both his father's knack for Transfiguration and his mother's skill at Charms. In terms of pure magical potential, Harry was inordinately powerful from his birth, and a healthy childhood filled with positive reinforcement and an innate love for reading had only increased his reservoir. He was also highly intelligent despite his general disdain for anything that he viewed as work, including scholastic study, and had the marked potential for surpassing his parents in both respective disciplines, and in any other magical arts should he ever find the inclination to apply himself to them. It didn't seem all that likely.

He dove into his mother's Charms texts with gusto and memorized many of the wand movements. As for Transfiguration, his skill was simply natural. He never needed to use incantations when doing his magic, really only having to point the wand with the proper motion to cast spells. One of his grandmother's wizarding friends, a severe old witch that had some long Scottish surname, had explained to him once that it was a consequence of his immense natural power, as magic relied on a certain level of magical focus. Spell chants were mostly a sort of mnemonic to focus a practitioner's energy to a high enough level to break the threshold and get the desired reaction from the pure magic in the air. For an innately powerful wizard like Harry, even a somewhat disjointed level of concentration was enough to get tangible results. In a nutshell, the child Harry Potter boasted far more raw magical power than most adult wizards and witches. Or at least he thought she had said something to the effect. He didn't really care about why he was able to do the things that he did. All that mattered was that he could.

Harry grabbed a handful of flower blossoms from a wooden box that Sophia had brought over for him. It was common knowledge in Harry's entourage that these were what he used when he needed to create an object through transfiguration. He placed the assorted flowers down onto the bed and proceeded to create a total of eight silken hair ties. He had no idea that he was violating several magical laws with this simple action, though he likely would not have been particularly concerned regardless. Alyssa handed the hair ties to Christine, who used them to plait Harry's rapidly drying hair into one long segmented ponytail. On a normal day, the somewhat dandy child would have different flowers braided into the plaits, but he needed to hurry today. His grandmother was probably already waiting for him downstairs. Meanwhile, Christine took a step back and admired her work before squealing and giving him a peck on both cheeks.

"_C'est magnifique!_ I jeest love working wiz' your 'air, 'Arry."

Melody stood up with a smile and walked over to Harry's closet. Kim, who had just finished cleaning up the bathroom, sat down in her spot and tickled the underside of Harry's chin, making him giggle. He glared at her and would have retaliated in kind, but just couldn't bring himself to move from his position on the beautiful Alyssa's lap. Melody's voice diverted his attention, regardless.

"What do you want to wear today, Harry?"

He thought for a moment and visibly pouted, remembering exactly what he was to do later that day. When he had visited his grandmother in her quarters the previous morning, she had told him that Minerva would be coming with his Hogwarts letter, and was going to escort him to some place in London to buy his school things. At that point, he connected the name with that old Scottish witch who often joined Azalea for tea and brunch during the summer months. Minerva McGonagall, that was her name. All of the girls noticed his downcast look, but had been in his company for long enough to understand that he was always in a bad mood on his birthday. Thus, instead of talking about it, they just attempted to keep Harry distracted, so as not to provoke one of his tantrums. All of them except Alyssa, who was still new and inadvertently raised the issue.

"What's the matter, Harry? You look upset about something."

That small flicker set off the explosion.

"Of course I'm bloody upset! It's my birthday, and as if that weren't bad enough, I have to go into bloody London with some hag and buy things for a school that I don't even want to go to!"

Even in his worst moods, it was very unlike Harry to swear. Kim tried to lighten the mood and cool his temper before he said something that he would really regret. Harry would often say the most terrible things in a fit of anger, but he would always be totally distraught afterwards if he had somehow hurt somebody's feelings, especially if it was one of the girls. He was such an emotional boy, but that was one of the things that everybody seemed to adore about him.

"Didn't you know, Alyssa? Our Harry is the only boy alive that despises his birthday."

"That's terrible! Everybody should be happy on their birthday..."

Harry sighed loudly.

"You've never seen it, Alyssa. The...people...that my grandmother brings in to celebrate my birthday. I mean, there's Petunia and that pig Dudley. And then all of my uncles show up too, and they always find something to criticize about me. Worst of all are these magical families the old lady invites from time to time..."

Most of the girls quietly listened as Harry ranted against all of the people that Azalea invited over on his birthday. Most of them had been friends with his parents while they were still alive, and now had children of their own. Conspicuous among them was another old lady and her grandson. The boy was a pudgy doofus who had apparently been born within the same week as Harry himself. He had seemed so overawed by the handsome boy's presence that he couldn't even talk, and Harry had been the one stuck entertaining him for the day. He had shoved the boy off on Dudley the last time he had visited, thinking that the two whales could find some common interest, and retreated back into his quarters to play dominoes with his maids for the rest of the day.

Two years ago, she had brought in an entire family of redheads, the Weasels or something. Those people were absolutely crude. The eldest son had been almost tolerable, and the third son might have been if not for his smug attitude. But there were two twin boys who ran around the compound playing pranks on the staff. The youngest son followed Harry around like a particularly malignant odor and constantly tried to chat him up about some dreadful wizarding sport, as if Harry would ever condescend to partake in such base physical activity. They also had a daughter, who would blush and run away at the sight of him. Sophia had witnessed it once, and later told him that the girl had a crush on him. Harry had been forced to endure hours of teasing from the girls on the subject, and the idea of him actually being romantic with the nit was revolting.

Alyssa looked at him sympathetically when he finished his diatribe, though he couldn't tell whether or not it was meant to be in a serious way. Melody had taken Harry's formal wear out of the closet with Kim's nodded approval.

"You poor thing. But at least none of those people will be here today..."

Harry nodded with a smile and cuddled further up against the stacked girl.

"I suppose that's true. I really ought to learn to look for the positive side of things. Thanks, Alyssa."

The girl basked in her young hero's fleeting compliment. Harry was blissfully unaware of the conflicting nature of the beautiful young woman's feelings regarding him. He might have seen things much more clearly had he been older or a bit more acute. As things were, he simply opted to enjoy all of the attention that she constantly lavished on him. Kim smiled slightly at the newest addition's performance in breaking their young charge's ill temper, though her eyes were unreadable. She herself gently rubbed his arm in a soothing manner.

"That's right, Harry. And don't you worry, we'll all be right here to make everything better once you get home from your trip to London."

Harry positively glowed at this.

"Do you really mean that? You promise?"

Melody was the one to respond.

"Of course, silly boy. When have we ever not been there for you?"

"That's true. I might as well get this mess over and done with, then."

The girls proceeded to get Harry dressed and ready for the day's activities. By the time he was ready to go downstairs, we was dressed in a silver dress shirt with matching socks. His unfastened jacket and pants were black, as well as his shoes. He looked quite fashionable and handsome, though he would have preferred to wear something much brighter. Harry delighted in prancing about in pastel colors as often as he could. Decked out in yellows and pinks with an entire rainbow of flowers arranged in the plaits of his hair, he often presented quite the peculiar sight. However, he knew that his grandmother would never let him out of the house looking like that, and he really just wanted to get his day finished so that he could recline back in his rooms with a good novel in his hand and his favorite girls at his side. After saying his goodbyes to his maids, he marched out his bedroom door in the direction of the downstairs parlor.

* * *

At about the same time, Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, appeared on the walkway leading up to the Evans family compound with a soft crack. As much as she always enjoyed being able to enjoy a good breakfast and conversation with Lily's mother, the old witch couldn't help but somewhat ambivalent about the task with which she was charged. Minerva had only met the young Harry Potter on a few occasions, but those had been enough for her to gain a relatively decent measure of the child. 

On the positive side, he was a sweet and charming boy. He was the type that very few people could remain angry with for any prolonged period of time. Potter was handsome and quite well spoken, and could quite easily carry on a sophisticated conversation with a learned adult if pressed into it, and if the subject suited his rather fickle interests. He was also immensely powerful, one of those special children born only once or twice in a generation. Minerva had seen Potter's raw magical aptitude for herself, as he had once given her a demonstration after being prodded by his grandmother. His talent in Transfiguration and Charms bordered on the level of being ridiculous. She had already exempted the boy from her first year class, and Filius Flitwick had tentatively done the same upon being told about young Potter's skill. The little man had practically jumped for joy upon hearing that Lily's son had inherited her affinity for his chosen discipline.

For all his good traits, there were some things about the boy that were absolutely frustrating. Minerva had never been in his quarters or seen him as he actually lived his daily life, but from the murmurs she had overheard around the estate during her visits, Potter was spoiled and pampered beyond belief. His attendants did literally everything for him. They themselves were a small harem of attractive young women who followed little Prince Potter around like his royal court. She could also see from his bored expression when she had tried to discuss the finer points of magic with the child that he held little interest in any sort of study, and it didn't stem from a lack of capacity to understand. Harry likewise seemed to despise any practice that required working with his hands. In essence, he was everything that Severus had always ranted that he would be. The Potions Master would positively loathe the boy, as if being James Potter's son wasn't reason enough.

Minerva found it unbelievable that Azalea Evans could have raised such an unmotivated child, but the truth of the matter was that the old woman's ailing health was such that she was largely unable to watch and discipline the boy, as he obviously needed to be. And being a Muggle, she was no qualified judge of progress in terms of magical study. All she could see was the myriad of charms and transfigurations that the boy could do simply on the laurels of his inherent gifts, and the admittedly impressive little act was more than enough to convince her that Potter was fully exerting himself. Perhaps a more stringent learning environment such as the one sponsored at Hogwarts would change his habits for the better. Minerva hoped so, as it would be a shame to see such a potentially great wizard be ruined by apathy.

At any rate, she would have a chance to observe him more closely today at Diagon Alley, and to see how he behaved when removed from the conflicting influences of his grandmother and his entourage of little vamps. Distracted by her thoughts, Minerva nearly tripped on the steps leading up to the expansive front porch of the compound. Shaking her head at her own absentmindedness, she strolled up to the ornate mahogany doors and knocked. After a rather brief moment, Azalea's old servant opened the door and greeted her.

"Ah, Madam McGonagall. We've been expecting you. Right this way, please. Madam Evans and the young master are both in the parlor and were just about to sit down to breakfast. You've arrived at exactly the right moment."

"It's always a pleasure, and please, just call me Minerva."

Parker nodded with a smile and led her into the parlor, where the nearly decrepit old lady was leaning onto her young grandson for support. It pained Minerva to see this once active and vibrant woman reduced to such a state that she could hardly get out of bed without assistance. She had strained her body when retrieving Harry from his aunt and uncle in Little Whinging, and had then tried to run the entire household herself. Eventually the burden had overwhelmed her, and she became what stood before Minerva now. Already glowing just from being in her grandson's company, she smiled even brighter upon seeing the Deputy Headmistress and hobbled forward to take her hand.

"How wonderful to see you again, Minnie. Harry was just telling me about how excited he is to be going to Hogwarts this term."

Minerva watched as the boy plastered a conciliatory smile onto his face and nodded. He had likely said something to the effect in order to appease his grandmother. The boy did genuinely care about the old woman's happiness, regardless of the probable lack of sincerity behind his words. For her part, the school professor decided to help keep her spirits high. After all, the young Potter was the old lady's pride and joy in life.

"As he should be. With the amount of progress he's made in his studies, he's quite sure to excel. The staff has already elected to exempt him from the introductory levels of some of his courses. He'll be several steps ahead of the rest ofhis class from the very start."

"Well, that's just spectacular. But be sure not to strain him too hard. He's a delicate boy."

"You won't need to worry about a thing, Azalea. We'll see that he's taken care of properly."

"Oh, I'm certain that you will. Now let's sit down to breakfast. You both have a busy day in front of you, and you'll need a good meal before you set out."

Minerva followed wordlessly behind as Potter led his grandmother into the dining hall with his long ponytail swaying behind him. The boy was impeccably dressed, in a fashion that could be equally attributed to either a Muggle or a wizard. Just from looking at him she could tell that once he hit his stride, Harry Potter would be the object of many a young witch's nighttime fantasies. Hopefully he wouldn't shatter as many hearts as his father had in his day. Minerva had her suspicions that the boy already had some experience on the subject of women, judging from the company that he tended to keep.

* * *

Breakfast was a relatively quick affair. Azalea questioned Minerva on the latest happenings at the school as they ate toast and drank coffee. Harry ate a bowl of fruit salad disinterestedly, with his only contribution to the mealtime conversation being an order to one of the servants for the apple crisp to be taken up to his quarters for his attendants' consumption after he himself had eaten a large slice. He was a bit disappointed to see that Petunia hadn't made an appearance. At least then he might have been able to have a little bit of fun baiting the woman. Dudley had already left for his school. His grandmother had sent him to some boarding academy that had classes all year round, so that he would only be coming home in spurts of a month or so each time. Presumably it was to get the boy more or less out of the house. Azalea had never openly expressed her dislike for Vernon and Petunia's son, but had made no particular effort to hide it either. Harry returned his attention to his grandmother and her guest upon hearing his name. 

"Minnie, dear, why don't you give Harry his school letter now?"

Harry glanced over at the woman as she smiled thinly and produced an envelope from her handbag, offering it to him. He opened it and skimmed over the contents.

**XXXXXXXXX**

_**HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY**_

_**Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore**_

_**(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)**_

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Enclosed is a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on September 1. We await your owl no later than July 31._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall,_

_Deputy Headmistress_

**XXXXXXXXX  
**  
There was also the mentioned list of required textbooks, which Harry didn't bother looking at. He already knew more or less what he would be taking from looking at his mother's old school tomes and would only need the list to reference what exactly he was to purchase once at the bookstore. As for the other supplies, his escort would certainly take him everywhere he needed to go while they were at wherever they were going. Harry had never actually been to London before, though he wasn't exactly looking forward to the trip. He hated large crowds and loud noise, and was thus poorly suited to the hustle and bustle of the capital city.

"If you're through eating, perhaps we ought to get moving. We have quite a bit of shopping to get done today."

Harry nodded at Professor McGonagall and ventured a question.

"How exactly are we getting to London, anyway?"

"We'll be taking your grandmother's limousine. One of the servants is already bringing it around to pick us up."

He walked over to give his grandmother a hug and take his leave. The old lady left him with one admonishment.

"Be on your best behavior today, Harry."

"Of course, grandma. I'll show you everything I buy today when we get back."

"I'll be looking forward to it. Now go on, don't leave your professor waiting."

With a smile and a kiss to the old woman's cheek, Harry started out to the front of the grounds to begin his trip to the city. He was at least pleased that they weren't flying on broomsticks or something equally horrid.

The trip to London was largely an exercise in silence. McGonagall had brought a book with her and read the entire way, leaving Harry wishing that he had thought to do the same. He instead settled for gazing out the compartment window and observing the scenery. The boy found the urban architecture to be absolutely tasteless. Completely functional and equally lacking in any sort of aesthetic quality. He couldn't even begin to imagine living in such a grim and dismal place. And speaking of grim and dismal, he glanced over to his escort. The woman was a right old gargoyle. He didn't know if she was being intentionally unfriendly to him for whatever reason, but she hadn't so much as even attempted to say a word to him the entire trip. This was shaping up to be a long and miserable day.

Soon enough, the limousine came to a halt outside of a dingy old pub somewhere in the heart of metropolitan London. It seemed to be rather out of place in the long strip of trendy department stores and expensive cafes that lined the commercial district. The name of the establishment was positively crude and common as well, "The Leaky Cauldron." Harry guessed that Parker had just gotten lost or something and was stopping to ask directions. Naturally, he had no such good fortune. McGonagall addressed him for the first time since leaving the estate.

"We're here, Potter. Come on, get the lead out."

Harry stared at her incredulously.

"But this is a tavern, ma'am. I'll have you know that I've never touched a drop. Wait a minute, you aren't one of those women that gets young boys plastered and then tries to take advantage of them, are you?"

The Deputy Headmistress blanched and looked completely scandalized, though Harry imagined seeing a faint trace of a smile upon her stern features.

"Absolutely not! Of all the ridiculous things to say! Now get moving, we don't have all day."

Harry nodded with a laconic smile, having finally coaxed a reaction out of the woman. He exited the limousine and waited at the entrance to the pub, allowing McGonagall to lead the way inside. If he was a bit disturbed by the outside of the place, he was totally revolted by the interior. The establishment was dark and seedy, and the stench of tobacco smoke hung in the air like a stagnant mist. Harry found himself choking within seconds, having never been exposed to such filth in his entire life. He almost immediately gravitated towards the opened rear door, the only source of relatively fresh air in the entire place.

Harry admired the stone wall outside, wondering why the pub had bothered installing a door that led to nothing.  
After a brief verbal exchange with the toothless old barkeep, McGonagall emerged from door behind him. He watched with more than a bit of confusion as she prodded the stone wall with her wand, and gasped loudly when it opened up to reveal a place the likes of which he had never seen before. The older witch turned to him, this time with a genuine smile on her face.

"Harry Potter, welcome to Diagon Alley."

At that moment, the entire idea of the magical world changed for Harry. For several years it had just been an abstract concept within the young boy's mind, something he had read about in textbooks and heard stories of from his grandmother and others. He had never doubted its existence, and had even performed actual magic himself. But not until seeing the inside of Diagon Alley did it become truly real. He took his first steps into this strange new world with emerald eyes as wide as saucers and a goofy grin on his aristocratic face.

(End Chapter One)

**Author's Note: And that's the first real chapter of this story. Really, it was fifteen pages of almost nothing, but I wanted to devote an entire chapter to giving a portrayal of what Harry was like after years in Azalea's care. I hope I've adequately explain how he's ended up the way he is. Poor kid doesn't really even know how to dress himself. It'll be a difficult adjustment at Hogwarts, to say the least.**

**Now, on to the question that always seems to come up in a new fiction. I don't have any clue yet about what I'm going to do regarding shipping. I can say that there will be no romance for a good while, as Harry is still eleven. He is acutely more aware of the female form and such than most boys his age are, but he still hasn't even really hit puberty yet. His innate preference for the company of girls is more of an intangible thing. I can tentatively rule out Hermione and Ginny as pairing partners, and there won't be any slash. Let me assure you, as quirky as he does and will continue to act at times, Harry is not gay in this fiction. I also don't see anything happening with Cho on the romantic side of things. She will be rather actively involved in the story, but you'll just have to wait and see to what end. Feel free to suggest ships if you like.**

**Next chapter should have a lot more actual content, as we'll hopefully be going through the entire trip into Diagon Alley. Of course, given my tendency to get lost in details, it may get stretched out to two chapters, depending on how things go. Expect the next update sometime next week, as I want to alternate between posting for this and my other story. As I have been repeatedly told, I have a sick mind, so the rating on this might go up as disturbing plot ideas enter my head. Enjoy, and don't forget** **to review!**


	3. Shopping With Snakes

_Harry admired the stone wall outside, wondering why the pub had bothered installing a door that led to nothing.  
After a brief verbal exchange with the toothless old barkeep, McGonagall emerged from door behind him. He watched with more than a bit of confusion as she prodded the stone wall with her wand, and gasped loudly when it opened up to reveal a place the likes of which he had never seen before. The older witch turned to him, this time with a genuine smile on her face._

_"Harry Potter, welcome to Diagon Alley."_

_At that moment, the entire idea of the magical world changed for Harry. For several years it had just been an abstract concept within the young boy's mind, something he had read about in textbooks and heard stories of from his grandmother and others. He had never doubted its existence, and had even performed actual magic himself. But not until seeing the inside of Diagon Alley did it become truly real. He took his first steps into this strange new world with emerald eyes as wide as saucers and a goofy grin on his aristocratic face._

**Chapter Two: Strolling With Serpents – Kindred Spirits**

Disclaimer: If you've seen it before, it belongs to J.K. Rowling. Otherwise, it's mine. Naturally, I'm making no money off this. Am I the only one that finds these things to be extremely repetitive and pointless?

* * *

Harry looked around the main thoroughfare of the alley curiously while he walked along, taking in all of the different shops. He glanced first at an apothecary near the exit of the Leaky Cauldron and was rather repulsed by the types of articles for sale. He then stopped to take a look at Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions and admire some of the fashions of display. Harry found some of the color combinations to be positively dazzling. Moving on, he noticed that several children roughly his age were crowded at the front window of Quality Quidditch Supplies ogling the new Nimbus Two Thousand, the latest model of racing broom. He turned his head away disdainfully. To think that these people would be so excited about hovering about on some cleaning instrument. He then saw a girl and her parents emerging from a bookstore with an entire stack of spell tomes. 

At that point, a potential snag in this entire shopping experience came to the forefront of Harry's mind. He had absolutely no money whatsoever. Despite being from an extremely wealthy family, Harry had never carried any substantial amounts of cash on his person. If he had ever needed anything, all that was required was for him to ask his grandmother, and she would then send somebody else to procure it. The whole notion of physically going into a store and purchasing something was an entirely foreign concept to him.

"Professor McGonagall?"

"Yes, Potter?"

"I'm not quite sure how to tell you this, but I have no money. I've never quite needed to carry any."

The normally severe woman gave him a reassuring smile.

"Then we'll just have to start out by going to Gringotts to withdraw some. Your parents didn't leave you without a Galleon to speak of, you know."

Even as impressionable as he was, Harry was rather sure that she wasn't talking about old sailing ships. Though the idea of using such things as a form of currency struck a chord with his more fanciful side.

"What is Gringotts, anyway?"

"Our bank, naturally. It is run by goblins, and they are quite vicious. I would advise not touching anything without permission. Here we are, right in front of you."

Gringotts Bank was a rather large building constructed of white marble. The architecture was rather ornate in comparison to the dusty and antique look of the majority of Diagon Alley's shops. Harry felt that the Doric styling of the columns was rather plain, but followed McGonagall through the bronzed entrance doors. They hardly took a few additional steps before coming across a second set of doors, these of silver and bearing an inscription. It was a poem, four rhyming couplets that bore a harsh warning against attempting to steal from the bank. Harry found it to be an absolutely dreadful composition, lacking in any sophisticated language or deeper meaning. It was everything that a poetic work shouldn't be. Of course, he knew that he really couldn't have expected much. They were goblins, after all.

The main hall consisted of two long counters on either side of the room, where countless goblins sat on high stools going about their work, counting coins and examining gemstones. Others serviced customers in a rather surly fashion and filled out ledgers. McGonagall nudged Harry on the shoulder and led him in the direction of a free desk.

"Right this way, Potter. The sooner we can get out of here, the better."

"Yes, ma'am."

Harry followed obediently, sharing the older woman's distaste for Gringotts. The place figuratively reeked of a tangible aura of base avarice. Harry held a special loathing for material concerns, always setting his own imagination on those things that he viewed to be of a much higher importance, such as his love for reading and for his girls, as well as maintaining his personal beauty. He had no patience for such conventional concerns as accumulating wealth. A particularly nasty looking goblin wrinkled his nose at the pair when they arrived at his station.

"Welcome to Gringotts. How may I be of assistance to you today?"

McGonagall answered curtly.

"Young Mister Potter here needs to make a withdrawal from his vault."

The goblin fixed Harry with a calculating stare, not that he noticed. He was looking in the opposite direction, at another bank customer going over a ledger at a nearby station, a tall and handsome man, with long white hair neatly arranged into a single plait. He had a pale disposition and pointed aristocratic features. Most striking were his eyes, metallic gray and so cold that they could freeze one's heart, and a good complement to his stern facial expression. His silk traveling cloak was a pure black and was fastened with an ornate silver pin, and he held a cane with a head shaped like a serpent. Though not an experienced judge of wizards, Harry could easily tell that this was a man of distinction. The young wizard had never seen anybody quite like him. Perhaps there really were other men in the world handsome enough to rank with him after all.

"And does young Mister Potter have his key?"

The goblin announced Harry's surname much more loudly than McGonagall had, causing the aristocrat to shift and regard him. The raven-headed boy had long since turned away, not wanting to allow his gaze to linger and risk being caught staring. Harry looked over to McGonagall, noticing her groan audibly when the other man started strolling in their direction. She quickly handed the goblin a small brass key from her tartan handbag.

"There, and let's not delay any more than necessary. We have a busy schedule to keep."

The goblin nodded, but glared disdainfully at the Deputy Headmistress.

"Gehrnek!"

A larger goblin with pockmarked white skin lumbered up towards the pair, but not soon enough for McGonagall. A silky drawling voice spoke from behind Harry.

"The famous Harry Potter, what a most fortunate discovery. I came here looking for goblins and have instead stumbled upon a phoenix."

Harry whirled around slowly to regard the man, staring into his probing gray eyes with a smile on his face. The older wizard took a moment to glance over Harry, taking in his stylish casual dress and refined posture with a nod of approval. He reached over to Harry's forehead with a gloved hand, softly brushing aside the fringe of black hair. The man arched a platinum eyebrow, a slightly puzzled expression crossing his pointed features. McGonagall didn't take well at all to his presence.

"If you would please excuse us, Lucius, young Mister Potter and I have business to attend to."

Lucius Malfoy directed a cold sneer toward his former Transfiguration teacher.

"Ah, Minerva. Always a pleasure, but I'm sorely afraid that I will not excuse you just yet. I wish to speak with our young savior, unless he has any objections, naturally."

It wasn't very often that Harry felt even the slightest bit awed by another person, and this Lucius fellow was able to do just that. He rather liked the idea of acquainting himself with worthy individuals, and the aristocratic wizard certainly was one, if his appearance was any indicator. He was able to address the man with a confidence that he typically lacked around strangers.

"It's no problem, though I don't know what you'd want to talk to me about. And call me Harry."

"Many things, Harry. But first, my name is Lucius Malfoy. A pleasure to make your acquaintance. Now, since our esteemed Deputy Headmistress appears to be so woefully pressed for time, perhaps it would be best if we all took my private cart to our respective vaults. I need only to make a quick withdrawal myself."

Harry nodded acquiescence and then looked over to McGonagall for approval. The woman's eyes were blazing with anger and she wore a deep frown.

"Absolutely not. The Headmaster would be most displeased if I allowed..."

Malfoy cut her off rudely, a victorious smirk appearing on his face.

"And I suppose Albus Dumbledore presumes upon the right to make young Harry's personal decisions for him, regardless of the boy's own feelings."

Harry recognized that name from even before receiving his school letter. His grandmother had warned him repeatedly about ever trusting the Headmaster. She described him as a meddling old coot that hid his manipulations behind the facade of a concerned surrogate grandfather, and told him not to fall for his subtle deceit. Mister Malfoy shared in Azalea's cynical opinion of the man and thus he was obviously a good person as well, or so Harry believed in his foolish naiveté.

"Of course not, however..."

"Then it's decided. Goblin! Prepare my private cart at once. I intend to make a withdrawal from the main Malfoy vault, and then we will continue to young Mister Potter's."

The larger goblin, Gehrnek, looked over to his superior behind the desk. The latter practically shouted at him. Harry was starting to think that Lucius Malfoy's personality was perhaps slightly too caustic for his tastes but still judged him to be enjoyable company.

"You heard the man! Don't keep Lord Malfoy and his party waiting! Get moving, now!"

So he really was aristocracy, Harry thought. He had never actually met a real nobleman before. This was beginning to be a most delightfully interesting day.

"Yes, sir! This way, everybody."

Gerhnek scurried off in the direction of one of the doors to the rear of the main hall. Lucius Malfoy strode briskly alongside, his cane tapping rhythmically on the tiled floor as he walked. Harry tried to keep pace with the older man, but was largely unable to do so. His legs weren't as long and he wasn't at accustomed to any kind of physical exertion. He eventually settled for lagging a few steps behind. McGonagall brought up the rear, lips pressed so tightly together that they were barely visible. The small party arrived at the entrance to what appeared to be a cavern burrowing deep into the ground. Within a minute or so, a large cart appeared to retrieve them. It was carved of mahogany and plated with silver, and what appeared to be the Malfoy family crest was emblazoned upon the front. It had nicely cushioned seats, green with silver lining. Harry took a seat next to Lucius, with McGonagall taking hers across from them. The goblin stood at the front of the cart.

"Hang on tight. Our first stop will be vault number seven, the Malfoy main account."

The trip was very rapid, but very smooth. Still, Harry was delicate and had no constitution for moving at such a high velocity, so he largely kept to looking at the cart's carpeted floor to avoid nausea. Lucius Malfoy's rich drawl caused him to look up hesitantly.

"If I may venture to ask, Harry, whatever has happened to your legendary scar?"

McGonagall shot the boy a significant glance, but he either ignored it or failed to grasp its meaning.

"My grandmother paid to have it removed years ago, sir. She said something about how it would make me a false icon. I just thought it was ugly, though."

Lucius shook his head. Harry couldn't understand why the man would be disappointed with him.

"A most imprudent move, if I may be so bold. That scar was a symbol of your status in our world."

Harry shrugged nonchalantly, his feelings regarding the matter unchanged.

"But it would be so horrid for people to look at me and never see past that disgusting thing. I'd much rather simply enrapture those around me with my elegance and charm. That would be far better than being praised for the scar."

Lucius Malfoy chuckled indulgently, while McGonagall's face looked torn between pride and ridicule. The cart came to a stop in one of the nearer recesses of the bank's network of tunnels. The Malfoy vault door was cast in pure silver and also sported the family crest. Lucius strode forward and pressed his signet ring into a small groove in the wall. Harry followed surreptitiously behind, though McGonagall remained seated. The gilded door rumbled open, exposing what was easily the greatest single collection of wealth that Harry had ever seen. The vault extended nearly as far as his eyes could see. Mountains of gold coins and jewels nearly ten feet tall littered the floor. There were also some smaller piles of silver coins and a few stacks of bronze currency scattered about. The walls were adorned with bookshelves containing old and priceless magical tomes, and with racks containing ornate weaponry.

If the Malfoy patriarch had any issues with Harry loitering about in his family treasure vault, he did nothing to express it. Lucius strolled over to the nearest pile of gold Galleons and began scooping an impossible amount into a small leather carrying bag. Harry expressed no surprise at the sight, being familiar with Enlargement Charms from his studies. He had toyed with them a few times with relative success, but had always been gifted with an abundance of living room in the family estate regardless. Once Lucius had emptied several thousand Galleons into his sack, he motioned for Harry to follow him out with a smile.

"We'll proceed to your vaults next."

Harry left the vault alongside Malfoy as requested, tearing his gaze away from the colorful pile of sparking jewels that had monopolized his attention for the last several minutes. The albino goblin spoke up again as Harry retook his seat inside the cart.

"Next stop is vault six hundred and eighty seven, Harry James Potter."

The Malfoy fortunes had been contained within the bank since its creation and thus the vault was somewhat close the surface. Harry's personal trust vault was deep within the catacombs underneath the bank, being one of the more recent accounts opened. A span of ten or eleven years, after all, was not very much time for an institution that had been operating for many centuries. As a result, this trip took much longer than the first.

Lucius took advantage of the time by constantly probing Harry with different questions about his upbringing. The boy answered with as much as he could remember. He had been too young at the time to remember much about his short-lived placement with the Dursleys in Little Whinging. The subject had always been taboo around his grandmother's home, as was anything else even remotely connected to Vernon. Aside from the old lady, only Petunia and Parker knew of it to begin with. Harry quite happily regaled the platinum-haired aristocrat with stories about his girls and his preliminary studies with magic, as well as his general disdain for many of the people that his grandmother had brought to the house. He had gotten a particularly vindictive sneer out of the man when he had spoken ill of the so-called Weasels.

McGonagall, on the other hand, looked increasingly uneasy, as Harry became more and more comfortable speaking with Lucius Malfoy. Harry didn't really understand the animosity between the two, but didn't particularly consider it a matter that he needed to concern himself with. He reveled in the attention being lavished upon him by the older man, whereas the Deputy Headmistress had been rather cold and distant with him the entire trip. She had never once tried to initiate any kind of dialogue with him, aside from to hurry him along. It was almost as though being in his company were some sort of undesirable chore to her. Harry was rather insulted by the thought, but kept his tongue out of respect to his grandmother's command to behave himself.

The cart finally came to a halt in front of an iron vault door, completely nondescript and containing only a small keyhole. McGonagall rose from her seat and primly left the cart. Harry followed behind wordlessly, as did Lucius once the stern woman was ahead and out of sight. Gerhnek stalked over and inserted Harry's vault key into the lock, having apparently taken it from the other goblin up at the desk while Minerva was bickering with Malfoy. The door ground open noisily, permitting Harry entrance into his vault. He hadn't quite been expecting the vast riches that had filled the Malfoy vault, but he was a bit miffed at how little there was. There were a few medium-sized hills of Galleons, as well as stacks of silver Sickles and a few isolated piles of bronze Knuts. He wasn't quite sure how much there was, but it couldn't have been more than five or six thousand Galleons.

The small amount of gold didn't really disturb him, as his grandmother would quite willingly provide him with anything that he might ever want or need in the future, magical or otherwise. It just didn't make sense. The Potters were supposed to be an old magical family, according to what his grandmother had told him. Surely Harry's inheritance should amount to more than this. Gehrnek handed him a charmed leather bag similar to Malfoy's. He was on the point of just letting the matter slide and withdrawing however many Galleons he might require, but his curiosity got the better of him. He turned to the waiting McGonagall.

"Professor McGonagall. I have a question."

"What is it, Potter? Just withdraw however much you think is necessary to purchase your supplies. Fifty Galleons or so should do nicely."

Lucius Malfoy's cold drawl interrupted the woman again, as the man rounded the corner.

"Only if you expect the boy to live as a street urchin, Minerva. He is the sole heir to a prestigious magical family and has been raised accordingly, at least from what I can clearly see. Such a paltry sum will be wholly insufficient if he is to maintain the proper standard of living. He'll be needing five hundred at the very least."

Her temper finally roused, McGonagall exhaled loudly and sent Malfoy a glare that would send most men running. The pureblood just sneered back at her.

"That's perfectly splendid, Malfoy! Just go right ahead and encourage him to squander his entire inheritance!"

"Cease your blathering, woman. Even several thousand Galleons fails to constitute even a small dent in the Potter fortunes, to say nothing of hundreds."

McGonagall shook her head.

"I refuse to debate with you any further, Lucius. What did you want to ask me, Potter?"

Harry was digging his toe into the stone floor disinterestedly before being snapped out of it due to hearing his name.

"I wanted to know if this is really supposed to be the entire Potter inheritance. My grandma always told me that my father's family was old magical blood and wealthy."

It was Lucius, however, that answered his query. The aristocrat wrinkled his nose in disgust as he looked over Harry's vault.

"Indeed they were, Harry. While perhaps not quite on the same scale as a few of the oldest magical families, the Potters have amassed considerable wealth, both in gold and in property. This pittance should not even be a menial scrape of your rightful inheritance, and I would be most interested in hearing what has happened to the rest. Goblin, if you would please enlighten us."

"As you wish, Lord Malfoy. Allow me to check the family account ledger..."

As Gerhnek started reading over a piece of parchment paper that from a small book on the inside wall of the vault. Meanwhile, Harry walked over to one of the mounds of gold and emptied a good deal of it into his bag. At a guess, he thought that he had scooped out perhaps two thousand or so of the gold coins by the time he was finished. He was only absently listening as the goblin gave his report.

"According to our records, Professor Albus Dumbledore was named controller of the Potter estate following the demise of the late Lord James Potter. He established this small trust vault to pay for young Harry's education at Hogwarts with instructions that the boy not be allowed to succeed to the full inheritance until his graduation at the age..."

"I have heard more than enough. This is a flagrant violation of pureblooded law and custom."

"Be that as it may, the boy cannot contest the decision without the expressed consent of his legal magical guardian..."

Lucius Malfoy was visibly outraged, sending the albino creature his infamous death glare. He spoke in a low voice, venom dripping from his every word.

"Allow me to venture a guess. Albus Dumbledore also occupies that role..."

"That is correct."

"This will not go uncontested. As the chairperson of the Magical Society for Pureblooded Advancement, I refuse to sit back and allow this meddling old fool to trample upon the rights of the only living heir to an ancient line."

McGonagall tried to intervene.

"This is none of your concern, Lucius. The boy has more than enough gold to get along with until he finishes school, and plenty of money on his mother's side of the family besides."

"Do not presume to tell me what my prerogatives are and are not, McGonagall."

Harry really didn't think that the entire issue was worth all of this fuss. However, his grandmother would surely likewise be up in arms about his being denied his rightful inheritance. The dank oxygen down in these caverns was starting to affect his breathing. He wanted to leave as soon as possible and commence with his shopping.

"Excuse me, but if the two of you don't mind I would like to leave now. This air is making me lightheaded."

Lucius nodded and started strolling back towards the cart, serpent-headed cane clacking along the stone as he moved. McGonagall made a statement.

"I take it you've withdrawn enough money, then. Very well, let's get out of this place."

Nobody spoke during the trip back to the surface. Harry knew that he would be sick if he were to look up, already feeling weak from being exposed to bad air. Lucius wore a calculating expression, apparently planning something or the other. McGonagall had enough decency to look a bit embarrassed about her employer's unethical meddling in Harry's personal affairs, though she was also fuming about having been thoroughly humiliated by the aristocrat. Upon reaching the main hall again, McGonagall motioned for Harry to follow her out of Gringotts. Lucius Malfoy had other ideas, again addressing the woman with his chilling drawl.

"Minerva, do be a dear and run along back to Hogwarts. I might advise you to inform the esteemed headmaster that there will be dire consequences if he fails to change his position regarding this young man's inheritance."

There were more customers in the bank by this point. McGonagall bristled, but managed to keep her voice down.

"I think not, Lucius. I am obligated to see to Potter's personal safety for the duration of his shopping trip, from both his grandmother and the headmaster. I'll not abandon him to roam the alleys on his own."

Lucius smiled condescendingly and shook his head.

"I believe that Harry's trust in our world has already been compromised enough today as a result of that old fool. I am quite certain that his grandmother would most readily agree. My own son will be starting his schooling this coming term, and it just so happens that we are here to purchase his supplies this morning as well. Narcissa and I would be delighted to escort Harry through the alleys for the day. You need not worry about a single thing."

McGonagall was silent for a moment and looked over to Harry.

"Potter, which alternative do you prefer?"

Harry was a bit surprised to actually be given a choice in the matter. He felt in his innermost heart that he had chanced upon a sort of kindred spirit in Lucius Malfoy, despite the vast age difference between the two. The nobleman indulged him in much the same manner that he was accustomed to at the estate with his girls and his grandmother. The choice was very easy to make.

"I think I'd rather go with Mister Malfoy. Thank you for escorting me so far, though."

Minerva nodded hesitantly, but the old witch turned to Lucius angrily.

"As you wish. Lucius, the boy is now your responsibility. If anything at all untoward should happen to him, I will personally see to it that you rot in Azkaban for the remainder of your living days. And make no mistake, Albus Dumbledore will hear of this."

The aristocrat bowed mockingly.

"I have no doubts. Have a most wonderful day, Minerva."

McGonagall turned to leave, marching quickly through the ornate silver double doors leading out to the entrance lobby. Harry was watching a small party of goblins as they scurried through a side exit. He felt Lucius Malfoy's cane tap lightly against his shoulder and returned his attention to the man while muttering a sheepish apology.

"Sorry, sir. I was just having a thought."

"Surely those filthy goblins couldn't have been that distracting."

"It wasn't really them. I was just imagining how spectacular it would be if one of those passageways led to a great dark forest right in the middle of the city. Maybe there could also be some rustic old village full of Japanese assassins guarding an evil cursed sword or something. But that couldn't ever really happen, I suppose."

Lucius blinked his eyes in confusion before smirking slightly, his gray eyes glittering with amusement.

"My dear boy, do try not to let your imagination run too far away from you. Now follow me. My wife and son will be meeting us at the entrance to Knockturn Alley."

Harry followed, again trying and failing to keep stride with the older man. They didn't have to venture all the way to Knockturn Alley. Two people were waiting for Lucius at the front marble steps of the bank. The first was a tall blonde woman dressed in a form fitting green velvet dress with a matching handbag. She was very attractive, Harry thought, and would have been absolutely stunning if not for the disgusted expression twisted onto her face. Not that he could really blame her, as he found a good portion of the entire atmosphere of London and Diagon Alley to be rather revolting himself. From the way she immediately glanced up at Lucius, she had to be his wife. The other was for all intents and purposes a smaller version of the aristocrat, except that his hair was much shorter and slicked back with some kind of gel, obviously their son. Mrs. Malfoy smiled sardonically at her husband as he and Harry approached.

"Lucius, darling. Whatever did you do to poor Minerva McGonagall? The woman stormed out of the bank and gave Draco and me the most frightful glare as she passed."

The slight sneer on her face betrayed her lack of sincerity.

"My dear Narcissa. Always so quick to point the finger. Draco, I do trust that you're behaving properly."

The platinum-haired boy stepped forward and gave Lucius a deferential bow.

"Of course, father."

Narcissa Malfoy then noticed Harry, who was trying to stand inconspicuously behind Lucius. For all his flighty attitude and generally amicable disposition, he was still extremely shy around people that he didn't know, especially when away from his grandmother's estate. For a brief moment, he found himself wishing that he had stayed with McGonagall. The pureblooded woman looked down at him with softening blue eyes, apparently already somewhat taken with him just on first sight.

"And just who might this handsome young wizard be?"

"How very rude of me. Family, this is the esteemed and legendary Harry Potter. He'll be joining us for the duration of our excursion today. Harry, this elegant lady is my beautiful wife, Narcissa, and her companion is our only son and heir, Draco. He will be attending school in your year at Hogwarts. I have high hopes that the two of you will become excellent friends."

Narcissa gave her husband a strange look, to which he nodded in response. She daintily offered a hand to Harry. He took it gently, blushing ever slightly as he gently kissed the back of it in imitation of the gentlemen that he had read about in books. She seemed a bit humored by the gesture, laughing melodiously as Harry shook hands with Draco. The Malfoy matriarch seemed to have a high opinion of his manners and expressed it.

"Why, you're ever the proper young gentleman. So rare to find a wizard raised with proper etiquette these days."

"Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy."

Lucius chuckled indulgently yet again, ever intent on humoring the young wizard.

"Now, Harry. There's no need to be timid. How much did you withdraw from your vault?"

"About two thousand Galleons. Will that be enough?"

Draco stared incredulously, but with a smile, as did his mother. It was the latter who answered.

"That's...quite enough to buy for your entire incoming class with a hefty amount to spare, dear."

Lucius whispered something to his wife and received an approving nod in return.

"You two boys will proceed over to the clothier and get acquainted while getting measured for your robes. Meanwhile, Narcissa and I will alter the lunch reservations to accommodate Harry. You will rendenzvous with us at Ollivander's in about an hour."

Draco gave an obedient nod and left in the direction of Madame Malkin's. Harry followed behind, not entirely remembering the way himself. They were lucky enough to come in when there were no other customers in the shop, and were directed behind the counter to be fitted immediately. They both ordered their robes to be done in the finest and most expensive silks, as Harry followed Draco's lead on what to purchase. The younger Malfoy finally broke the silence, his gray eyes boring into Harry's.

"If you're really the great Harry Potter like my father says, then why don't you have the scar?"

Harry smiled, thankful for not having to be the one to initiate conversation.

"He asked the same question. My grandmother had it removed when I was a child. She said it was no good for me, and I thought it was hideous."

"Makes sense, but how do you get rid of a curse scar?"

"I don't know, some sort of Muggle cosmetic surgery. So, where d'you think you'll be Sorted at school?"

Harry knew some of the particulars about Hogwarts from the history tomes that were occasionally forced upon him during his studies. That said, he didn't particularly care for his chosen subject of conversation, but he wanted to talk about his scar even less. He had heard enough about it from Lucius earlier. He also saw the look of disdain on the other boy's face when he mentioned the word "Muggle." He had no desire to have a row with his apparent new friend over that issue, but would have done so had Draco insulted non-magical folk. After all, Kim and the other girls were all Muggles, and most importantly, so was his grandmother. Draco smirked and answered in his haughtiest tone of voice.

"Slytherin, where else? Everybody in my family gets sorted into Slytherin. How about you?"

Harry looked up at the ceiling for a moment in thought.

"I'm not sure. I know I don't want to be in bloody Gryffindor. The other houses all seem okay, but I guess I'll just have to find out when I get there."

"You wouldn't mind being put in Hufflepuff? I'd sooner be sent back home..."

"There's nothing wrong with being loyal, though I'm sure the duffers would bore me to tears. And the color yellow suits me nicely."

"You'd look much better in green. It matches your eyes."

Harry chuckled in an attempt to imitate Lucius. He failed miserably.

"Trying to sway me already, are you? Besides, Hufflepuff yellow matches your hair."

"Naturally, it would be a bloody crime for the magical world's hero not to be in Slytherin. And I will hex you if you ever repeat that again."

Harry glanced out the window, emerald eyes widening as a veritable giant of a man walked by the front of the shop. He was at least ten feet tall and had long and tangled hair with a beard to match. He was dressed in some kind of animal skin overcoat. Harry nudged Draco and pointed.

"Say, take a look at that man!"

"Oh, I've heard of him before. He's the groundskeeper at Hogwarts or something. Father says that he's some kind of savage. Lives in a shack near the woods and everything."

"Well, he certainly looks the part. And such abhorral fashion sense, too. Really, you'd think he just skinned a bear and wrapped it around himself."

"I'd say that his only alternative would be to wear a tent. Enough about him, though. Do you play any Quidditch?"

"Quidditch...oh, right, the sport that disgusting Roland Weasel or whatever his name was kept trying to talk to me about two years ago on my birthday. No, I don't play. I don't have much for flying. I'm quite sure the wind would be murder on my hair."

Draco snorted derisively.

"And my friends call _ME_ a vainglorious ponce. I can't believe you can tolerate that family. They're such dirt-poor Mudblood lovers, disgraces to the name of wizard. Father's always going on about how the lot of them ought to be sterilized before that fat mother hen can squirt out any more rodents. They have seven children and couldn't even afford to properly raise one."

Harry bristled in anger and clenched his fist.

"My mother was a Muggleborn witch, I'll have you know."

"Sorry, guess I forgot. You look and act so much like a pureblood that it's easy to."

"I don't know whether to be flattered or insulted by that."

Draco sneered.

"Take it however you want. I meant it as a compliment. Were you raised magical or Muggle?"

"Well, I grew up in my grandmother's Muggle estate, but I'd answer magical for the most part. I've never really used much modern Muggle technology and I've been studying magic more or less since my seventh birthday. All that I really do around the house is read and play games with my attendants."

Madame Malkin told the boys that they were done being measured, cutting off whatever reply Draco might have made. Harry glanced over at a clock on the wall, noting that barely twenty minutes had passed since they had left Lucius and Narcissa. Harry paid for his robe order, the cost coming to a little over one hundred and fifty Galleons. He looked around the shop for a moment and decided to make a few other purchases, particularly a pair of expensive dragonhide boots with matching knee breeches and a royal blue silken cape, along with a solid gold fastener shaped like a preening peacock. He paid a little extra for the shop owner to magically enlarge the carrying bag so that he could fit his other purchases inside. Not wanting to be completely outspent, Draco purchased a pair of graphorn hide boots, as well as a new traveling cloak.

They left the store with just a little under half an hour before they were due to meet up with the senior Malfoys at the wand shop, and ventured into a magical jewelry store at Harry's insistence. Draco largely disliked wearing adornments of the kind. Harry bought heavily, particularly a pair of gem-encrusted bracers to be worn on his wrists, along with a bejeweled belt and a small coronet for his hair. All of the stones were of a clear color. The shopkeeper explained that they would color in the first time Harry put them on, based on whatever he wanted them to be. Draco suggested that he save them for after the Sorting Ceremony, so that they could be made to reflect his house colors. The younger Malfoy also made it a point to insist that they would naturally end up being emeralds. The general idea made sense to Harry, who found that the other boy was actually quite useful for advice on such matters of fashion, though he considered his looks to be beyond reproach to begin with.

Harry's purchases made, the pair started over for Ollivander's. Lucius and Narcissa were already waiting for them outside the front entrance, along with a small creature that Harry viewed to rival the goblins in terms of grotesqueness. It had a long thin nose and huge green eyes, and was dressed in rags. It shrunk away at the sight of Harry, apparently terrified of him, or of his companions. He almost felt sorry for it, whatever it was, but dismissed the matter as Lucius spoke to the two boys.

"Have the pair of you gotten to know one another somewhat?"

His son answered.

"Yes, father. We've made quite fast friends. As usual, you know how to choose the worthiest people to associate with."

The elder Malfoy nodded.

"A skill that I hope to see you acquire. Mindless oafs such as the Crabbe and Goyle heirs can prove useful on occasion, but they are not to be relied upon in important matters."

"Understood, father. I will do my best not to disappoint you."

Narcissa brought an end to her husband's chastising of her son.

"Harry, dear. I see that you've made some additional purchases. Might I take a look?"

Harry handed the older beauty his sack, noticing that she looked a lot prettier when addressing him or Draco. She raised an eyebrow while going through some of his selections.

"You seem to have quite an affinity for jewelry."

"I suppose so. I like the cape and fastener the most, though."

Lucius interrupted his wife's comments on Harry's fashion, much to his dismay. It was one of the few subjects he could talk about ad nauseum without getting bored or annoyed.

"We had might as well go in, before other customers make an appearance."

The four walked into the dusty wand shop. Ollivander had somewhat eerie eyes that shone like moonlight. Harry was a bit wary of the obviously eccentric man, who spoke to the group.

"Ah, the esteemed Malfoy family. I certainly hope that you're all doing well. Lucius, fifteen and a half inches, ebony and dragon's heartstring. A particularly sleek and graceful specimen, but with a good amount of power behind it as well. Especially good for curses if my memory serves correctly, one of my finer creations. Narcissa, you were nine and a quarter, made from betel and unicorn's hair. A fine wand for healing magic, as well as defensive spells. I seem to recall it being a slight bit weak on the offensive side, but still more than adequate."

Both husband and wife nodded. Harry was rather impressed with the man's recall ability.

"Your memory is impeccable as always, Mister Ollivander."

"Thank you, I do try to remember every wand that I sell. And now, your worthy son has come through my doors for his first wand. And so the great circle of creation continues. Well, young Malfoy, please give this one a wave to start with, if you would."

Ollivander handed Draco a wand. Harry wasn't paying much attention to it, instead looking around at all of the boxes in the room. A red one on a faraway shelf caught his eye. After about ten minutes, the younger Malfoy obtained a compatible reaction with a long maple wand, as evidenced by a shower of green and yellow sparks. Ollivander flashed him a smile.

"Thirteen inches, maple and dragon's heartstring. An ideal combination of power and poise, certainly a wand to be proud of. I can already see that you'll take quite well after your father."

Draco flushed with pride at that comment, stepping back to allow Harry his spot at the counter. Ollivander's eyes nearly misted over at the sight of the boy, and he spoke in a low voice.

"Mister Potter, I've been expecting you. This is certainly not the company that I would have expected you to be keeping, but perhaps time truly does heal all wounds..."

Lucius kept his face impassive at this comment, but Harry almost swore that he could see a flash of some emotion reflected in the man's cold gray eyes. Ollivander looked up at Harry's forehead.

"...I see that you've parted with your legendary scar. Perhaps it is not my place to judge, but allow me to offer you some advice. You cannot run away from what you are, my boy. No cosmetic will ever hide your true nature or your destiny when the time comes for them to become manifest. To even try would be folly. Remember that..."

Harry almost lost his temper at this presumptuous lecture, but kept his temper reined in so as not to make a fool of himself in front of the Malfoys.

"You're babbling lies, old man. I've not run from a single thing in my life."

"Perhaps that is true. Now, let's get you paired with a wand. Here we go, eight inches, teak and unicorn hair. Give it a whirl."

Harry gave the wand a wave, and some sparks flew out. Narcissa clapped her hands behind him.

"A suitable match on the first try. I've never heard of such a thing."

Ollivander shook his head in the negative.

"I'm afraid not, my dear Narcissa. He simply has some previous experience with focusing his magic. It seems that somebody's been doing spellwork illegally. If anybody could have disabled the Ministry detection charms placed on my creations while still in school, it would have been your mother, Mister Potter. A brilliant charms mistress, she would have been one of the world's best had she not come to her untimely demise. Well, try this one. Ten and a half inches, spruce and dragon's heartstring."

Harry did as ordered, and again got a reaction. This continued on for the better part of an hour. Lucius eventually got a bit irritated.

"The boy seems to be compatible with any wand he touches, so sell him one and be done with it."

"Patience, Lucius. What we have seen thus faris only his own magic reacting to a stimulus, not a connection between the wand's personality and his own. This is a delicate process."

Harry pointed to the red box at the far and of the storage room.

"Mister Ollivander, I want to try that one. Please retrieve it for me."

The man glanced over and then looked back at Harry.

"That is a failed creation of mine, the disastrous result of my attempting to dabble in wand components from the Orient. Seventeen inches, bamboo and peach blossoms stained in siren's blood. The specimen is hopelessly fickle and extremely violent with those it deems unsuitable. I just keep it there as a novelty. It will never be compatible with anybody. I could never sell such a monstrosity to a young wizard of your stature."

Narcissa repeated Harry's request.

"Let the boy try it. It can do no harm, and if you aren't satisfied then by all means sell him one of the myriad or so other wands he's already tested."

Ollivander sighed and gathered the box.

"Very well, then. Here you are."

Harry took the fragile bamboo stick and waved it. He could literally feel every cell in his body tingling with magical energy as a veritable hurricane of long stemmed roses burst forth from the tip and inundated the shop. The shop owner was positively ecstatic.

"Most excellent! I've absolutely never heard of the wizard choosing his wand before, and it ends up being that temperamental old thing out of all my creations! Please take it, free of charge. And I won't accept payment for young Malfoy's either. I haven't seen anything this inspiring in decades! To take your money would cheapen the experience."

"Well, thank you, Mister Ollivander."

"No, thank you. It was a privilege serving you. Good luck at Hogwarts, both of you."

With a nod and a smile, Harry followed the various Malfoys out of the shop.

* * *

The rest of the day proceeded wonderfully for Harry. Lucius and Narcissa slipped out while the boys were purchasing their school textbooks and purchased a pair of owls for them at Eeylops. Harry's was a beautiful golden tawny owl that he named Disenchantment. Draco got a sleek eagle owl. While in Flourish and Blotts he also bought some graduate level Charms texts, haven already gone through all of his mother's regular books back at the estate. He saw a variety of novels written by the most beautiful man he had ever seen on a featured rack near the front of the store. The man obviously had excellent taste, as his pictures showed him looking resplendent in quite colorful robes. His smile was impossibly white and sparkly. Harry immediately decided that this man was one of his new role models, and ended up walking out of the shop with a full collection of Gilderoy Lockhart books. 

It was Harry's turn to slip away while the Malfoys were browsing about in the apothecary. He had seen a similar shop out of the corner of his eyes while passing near the bookstore and wanted to grace the place with his business. It was a very small and largely run down shop specializing in traditional Chinese ingredients, located in the winding recesses of a side alley. An undesirable location for a business, but the owners couldn't afford a more premium zone. They had just moved into the country less than a decade before and were getting by as well as they could. Harry bought all of his potions ingredients from them, loath as he was to study the subject, and purposely overpaid them by nearly fifty Galleons. He also bought an unbreakable ceramic cauldron charmed to stir itself, if for no other reason than to protest being forced to potentially soil himself while brewing potions by not buying the pewter variety that the supply list dictated. He purchased a lot of rare and exotic ingredients that he didn't need and would likely never use for no purpose other than that he just liked the place and wanted to give a helping hand to the people who ran it. In the end, he spent nearly five hundred Galleons there. Normally he would never have even ventured into such a dilapidated location, but he just felt drawn to it for some reason.

He spent a good amount of time chatting up the owners, though their English was only passable at best. He was able to learn that they had a daughter just about to enter her second year at Hogwarts. He noticed the girl watching him shop from a hidden location on a few occasions. She was incredibly shy, and would go running back into the rear storage area if Harry looked directly at her or if her parents tried to call her out to introduce them. He didn't get much of a good look at the girl, though, only noting that she was extremely small, standing at just barely four feet. By some miracle, he managed to return to the main alley just as the Malfoy's were leaving the main apothecary. He only told them that he had stepped out for some fresh air, though he doubted that they believed him.

His final shop stop was at Magical Menagerie, as he decided upon looking at his supply list that he wanted a pet to keep with him at all times. He already had Disenchantment, a birthday present from the Malfoys. He would either take the owl to school with him or leave it at the estate for the girls and his grandmother to use. He had briefly wondered how they had known that today was the anniversary of his birth, but then recalled that he was a celebrity icon in this world. He still wasn't at all used to the idea. He bought a small Siamese kitten in the pet shop and named her Xiren, after a character from one of his favorite Asian novels.

The party ended their excursion with a late lunch at some expensive restaurant in Diagon Alley's more patrician sector. Harry had feasted on glazed duckling, one of his favorite delicacies from the estate, but one that wasn't prepared particularly often. The main course was excellent, as was the strawberry cheesecake that he had as a dessert. He reflected on the fact that the day had gone much better than he had anticipated as he prepared to take his leave from his impromptu companions. He likely wouldn't have enjoyed the trip even half as much had he stayed with Professor McGonagall. But now he was tired, and he couldn't wait to get back home and relax up in his quarters with the girls for a good while. Parker would be due to arrive to pick him up back at the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron any time now.

"Well, I've really enjoyed spending the morning with you all, but I need to be leaving now."

Draco asked a question.

"How are you supposed to be getting back home, anyway?"

"My grandmother's limousine will be waiting to pick me up at the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron. I'll see you on the train, Draco. Mister and Mrs. Malfoy, it's been a pleasure meeting you both."

Lucius fixed him with a laconic grin and shook his hand.

"Likewise, my boy. I'll be in contact about your inheritance, so keep an eye out for my owl."

"I will, sir. Thank you for all your help."

After the final round of farewells, Harry returned to the Leaky Cauldron and strode out into Muggle London where Parker was waiting to ferry him back to his grandmother's estate. Harry Potter's first real excursion outside of his sheltered lifestyle had gone much better than he could have hoped, but he was nonetheless more than ready to head back into his sanctuary now. Soon enough, he would be off to Hogwarts.

(End Chapter Three)

**Author's Note: Damn, this ended up being a lot longer than I had anticipated. As promised, I got through the shopping trip in one chapter. I hope I got the Malfoys at least somewhat in character, though it's rather hard to define Narcissa given the limited role she's had so far in canon. As for Harry making nice with them, I think it's definitely within the realm of possibility for this incarnation of him. Besides, it's well in Lucius Malfoy's nature to slither up to whoever wields power and influence, and Harry does just by virtue of his being the Boy-Who-Lived, whether he really likes it or not. Perhaps the man is trying to manipulate and use Harry, or perhaps the charming little prince has melted a tiny bit of the ice around his cold heart. You'll just have to wait and find out. I hadn't really intended to make Harry and Draco much more than acquaintances, but I just loved the way the two interacted together when I started writing them in the robe shop.**

**And now, on to the most often mention matter: that of Harry's future house. I personally am leaning towards Ravenclaw. Harry has considerable wit and charm, and is extremely intelligent. He likes to study certain things and he reads voraciously, even if much of what he chooses to pore over isn't strictly educational. However, I've also seen a strong case made for Hufflepuff in certain reviews. Harry's loyal enough to those he cares for, but he despises the idea of hard work. I even consider Slytherin as an outside possibility. Let me know what you think, but keep in mind that it isn't a poll or anything, and the house that gets the most reviewer support won't necessarily be where I put him. Hope you all enjoy, and remember to hit that review button.**


	4. Lord Potter

_Lucius fixed him with a laconic grin and shook his hand._

_"Likewise, my boy. I will be in contact concerning your inheritance, so keep a sharp eye out for my owl."_

_"I will, sir. Thank you for all your help."_

_After the final round of farewells, Harry returned to the Leaky Cauldron and strode out into Muggle London where Parker was waiting to ferry him back to his grandmother's estate. Harry Potter's first real excursion outside of his sheltered lifestyle had gone much better than he could have hoped, but he was nonetheless more than ready to head back into his sanctuary now. Soon enough, he would be off to Hogwarts._

**Chapter Three: A Kiss Stolen - An Estate Reclaimed**

Disclaimer: If you've seen it before, it belongs to J.K. Rowling. Otherwise, it's mine. Naturally, I'm making no money off this. Am I the only one that finds these things to be extremely repetitive and pointless?

* * *

The sun was just beginning its nightly descent when a troubled Harry headed back upstairs to his personal wing of the manor. He had been immediately summoned into his grandmother's presence when the servants had announced his return from London. He had been a bit exhausted from the day's exertions, even though a few hours of shopping would hardly be enough to tire most other young boys out. Still, he would sooner share a bedroom with Dudley than disobey the old lady's request. Azalea had wanted to hear him recant the day's events, which he happily did. Meanwhile, he asked one of the stewards to take the cages containing Xiren and Disenchantment up to one of his spare rooms. 

Harry had received a minor dressing down upon mentioning that he had left McGonagall's company in favor of shopping with his new acquaintances. However, his grandmother was also elated to hear that he had already made a new friend in Draco. Harry had purposely attempted to mold her into a state of good humor before breaking the news of his inheritance dispute, in hopes that it would help prevent her from losing her temper too badly. It was a rare moment of tact for the young dandy, but he was always concerned about her fragile condition. Another explosion of anger like the one from that fateful morning at Privet Drive could have disastrous consequences.

It was of no use, as Azalea flew into a towering rage upon hearing that Albus Dumbledore had shown the audacity to muddle in what amounted to a family affair. Both Harry and Parker had rushed to placate her, exhorting the old lady to think of her health and assuring her that proper steps were being taken to remedy the situation. Still, Harry's grandmother had very nearly swooned and had to be helped to her bedchambers to recuperate. The young wizard had stayed by her side until she fell into a stable rest, and then gathered his purchases and made for his own chambers. He was in a rather depressed state due to the old lady's collapse, and hoped that the comfort of being with the girls would help to clear his mind. He knew one thing for certain. He was not going to forgive Dumbledore for this. The money itself was a pedestrian concern and beneath him, but the man's manipulations had harmed Harry's grandmother, and that was unacceptable.

He arrived at his bedroom door to find it open. All of the girls were already there, apparently waiting for his return. Kim was sitting in an armchair reading and Alyssa was reclining on his bed. His other four attendants were occupied with playing a game of cards on the carpeted floor. Cheered up already, he placed his bag at the foot of his bed and walked over to the card game.

"Oh, Crazy Eights! My favorite! Do deal me into the next round."

All other activity in the room stopped, as Harry became the complete center of attention. The girls hurried him into a soft place on his bed and rushed to procure something more comfortable for him to wear. Sophia slid in behind him and gently took the plaits out of his hair, allowing his silky black mane to fan out behind him. He relaxed as four additional pairs of hands changed him into a pair of blue silk trousers and a pink satin robe embroidered with red flowers, with a yellow sash around his waist. As soon as he was dressed again, Harry reclined back onto his plush mattress, pulling Kim and Melody down with him in a fit of giggles. A pleasant mixture of chocolate and honey filled his senses as a composite curtain of shining black and golden brown covered his pale face. After a moment, he scooted back against his pillows and propped himself up, and was promptly buried again as Alyssa and Sophia piled onto him, leaving only Christine standing. The French girl raised an eyebrow at the sight and sat daintily on the far edge of the bed as Harry attempted to exhume himself from the small mountain of female under which he was buried. After a few seconds, his head poked out from inside the pile of hair.

"So, 'ow did you enjoy your first trip to 'ze big city, 'Arry?"

"It wasn't so bad. I made friends with the most delightful family this morning."

One of the other girls laughed against Harry's cheek. He thought that it was Sophia, but it was hard to tell.

"See, and you made all that fuss this morning over nothing. But it sure took you a while to get back up here. We heard you being announced, and that was hours ago."

Harry's happy tone subsided somewhat.

"I know. Grandma strained her temper and had a collapse. I stayed with her until she fell asleep."

Kim sat up and looked at Harry with concerned eyes. Being his chief attendant, she dealt with the old lady on a much more regular basis than the other girls.

"Please tell me what happened, Harry. I hope she's going to be all right..."

"Well, it's a bit complicated. I found out at the bank this morning that I wasn't allowed to take control of my parents' estate because I'm still in minority, but wizarding custom states that I should be able to unless by my magical guardian says I can't. The headmaster of my school apparently fills that role and says that I'm not allowed to inherit until I graduate or something. I personally don't think it's all that big of a deal, but grandma was naturally furious. I really shouldn't have said anything to her about it."

Harry's words caused his mood to suffer even more. It wasn't until that moment that he realized that he had been at least partly to blame for Azalea's collapse. Sensitive to his plummeting personal morale, Alyssa tried to reassure him.

"You haven't done anything wrong at all, Harry. If that man is withholding something that belongs to you, then you have every right to say something about it. I'm sure your grandma is going to be just fine, too. She's been through much worse than this. Now, show us everything you bought in the capital today."

Harry sprang up immediately, always eager for an opportunity to show off for the girls. He first showed them the robes and jewelry that he had bought, and then displayed his new wand. Harry took a moment to play with the magical focus. It was several inches longer than Lily's school wand, which he had been using for these recent years, though still quite a bit lighter due to the fact that it was constructed from bamboo. He naturally didn't show them his potions ingredients or other practical things. Harry instead excused himself from the room for a moment and returned with the pet cages. Normally he would never actually go and retrieve them himself, but he wanted to surprise them. The girls predictably fell in love with Xiren on first sight, lavishing the kitten with affection. Harry felt a twinge of envy, unused to not being the constant target of everybody's attentions at home. He put it aside, instead taking a moment to glance over his books.

He immediately noticed that there were several more books in his neat pile than he had purchased in Flourish and Blotts. He naturally wondered how they had gotten there, and hoped that he had not accidentally walked out of the store without paying for something. The very idea that he might have stolen something mortified Harry. The books were certainly not of the variety that he would have selected himself, an example being a huge black tome entitled _From Bludgeoning Hexes to Unforgivable Curses: The Complete Warlock's Lexicon to the Dark Arts_. Another of the books was _Always Pure: A Treatise Concerning the Nature of Blood Superiority in Magical Society_, written by one Diocletian F. Nigellus. Shaking his head, he looked at the rest, which included a pair of short books on Legilimency and Occlumency written by the same author, as well as a magically updating text outlining the genealogies of the old families. Putting the books down, Harry returned his attention to the girls, who were still fawning over Xiren.

"I really can't help but feel like I've been replaced."

Far from gaining him any sympathy, the whining remark only caused his entourage to laugh teasingly at him.

"Only you would be jealous of a cat, Harry."

Harry glanced caustically at Melody, who had uttered the casual remark. As he was tired and in an extremely unstable mood, even a joking rebuke such as hers could cause the naive boy to blow his stack. Kim saw his rapidly darkening expression and quickly shifted into damage control, tearing herself away from playing with the kitten and taking the boy by the shoulders, pulling him back down onto the expansive bed in a warm embrace. Harry immediately forgot his irritation with the other girl, instead relishing in the fact that his favorite was publicly paying special attention to him. She normally tended to stand on her dignity around the other girls, so a treat like this was rather rare. Her gentle voice filled his sensitive ears.

"Nobody's trying to neglect you, Harry. An animal could never compare to you. You know better than that."

Harry rolled his eyes at her soft chiding tone, but was no longer angry at all. He tolerated it when she lectured him, a luxury that the pretty young woman shared only with the old lady. He felt a bit guilty at having almost lost his temper at something as small and defenseless as Xiren, though he didn't voice it.

"You're right. I'm sorry."

"There's no need to apologize, as long as you understand. Now, stay right here with me. Can I trouble the rest of you to go and bring in the surprise?"

Harry's face lit up as the rest of the girls save for Sophia got up and headed for the door with identical smiles. Meanwhile, Xiren slowly crawled over and curled up in Harry's outstretched hand, purring softly. His ill humor was by this point a mere shade of the past, replaced by childish excitement.

"A surprise, you say? Tell me what it is. I hope it's for me."

Kim ruffled his scalp as the other remaining girl responded.

"If we told you, then it wouldn't be a surprise. Just be patient."

Harry swallowed his annoyance and waiting quietly, stroking his sleeping kitten's head. The girls returned presently, wheeling in a large birthday cake. It was double chocolate with pastel buttercream icing, Harry's absolute favorite. He was ecstatic, finally having a birthday celebration that he could truly enjoy after all these years of nightmarish parties.

"Thank you so much! But I wonder how you all got this..."

"It was easy, 'Arry. We simply bullied 'ze cooking staff to baking us 'zis cake while you were out shopping in 'ze city."

"It's wonderful, but I don't have anything worthy to give you all..."

"Just listen to this boy! It's his birthday, and he wants to give gifts to everybody else!"

Harry shrugged with a grin on his face as he accepted a large slice of cake. Naturally, his piece came with most of the decorative frosted flowers. The confection was absolutely delicious. He wished that his grandmother were also there to enjoy the small party.

"But I really do. Making all of you happy would be the best present I could ever ask for."

Sophia sighed comically and kissed the boy's cheek.

"You don't need to give us things for us to be happy. Shame on you for even thinking such nonsense."

The birthday celebration continued from there. Most of the cake was eaten, and Harry asked for the rest to be stored for him to share with the old lady the next day. Overall, the evening was more enjoyable than he could ever have imagined. There were no unwanted gifts to occupy space in his quarters, though he surmised that his grandmother would have something for him the next morning. Better, there was no Petunia to look sour faced and resentful through the entire charade, and no Dudley to hog the cake. There was no Uncle Robert to constantly breathe down his neck and harangue him about all of his shortcomings. And most of all, there were none of his parents' insufferable Gryffindor friends and their frightfully dull offspring to torment him and keep him from his usual pursuits. Harry was happier than a clam at high tide.

But, as all good things do, the only party that Harry had ever actually enjoyed eventually came to an end. It was well into the night by the time that the girls finally made to take their leave of him. In one of his more ridiculous moments, Harry had innocently tried to cajole the entire group into sleeping in his bed with him. His proposal was naturally rejected, but Harry caught something strange reflected in Alyssa's eye when he asked the question. The girls then changed him into his pajamas and wished him goodnight, each giving him a chaste kiss as they left. All except the newest among them. Alyssa was the first to depart first, flashing a knowing smile as she exited.

* * *

Several hours later, Harry lay awake in bed. He had slept for a while, but then woken up again. He had always had difficulty sleeping after consuming large amounts of sugary food. His room was only barely illuminated by the moonlight and he had no desire to risk falling and hurting himself while searching for a source of actual light and a book to read, leaving him with nothing to do aside from staring at the ceiling. Just as the sheer boredom of his current predicament was starting to lull him back into sleep, the door to his room creaked open. That struck him as odd, as nobody ever entered his quarters after he had officially turned in for the night, unless he specifically called for him or her. He watched as a figure slid cautiously inside and closer the door again, walking over into the bed. The intruder took a brief step back upon realizing that Harry was awake and watching, but stepped into the moonlight after a moment's hesitation. 

"Alyssa...is that you? It's really sort of late, you know."

The beautiful young woman sat down next to him on the bed. Harry was genuinely confused as to what she could possibly want, and why she was grinning like the cat that just ate the goldfish.

"I know. Are you having trouble sleeping, Harry?"

"A little. Whatever it is you need, it should probably wait until morning."

"This'll just take a second. I was sitting awake too, and I remembered that I forgot to give you a birthday kiss when I left earlier."

Harry raised his eyebrows, though the girl didn't see the gesture in the room's darkness.

"And so you wanted to come and do it while I was sleeping?"

"If I waited until tomorrow, then it wouldn't be your birthday any longer."

"It's approaching midnight. You'd better hurry it up before I turn back into a pumpkin."

Alyssa giggled furiously.

"As you wish, Cinderella. Close your eyes."

Harry complied, bracing for a kiss on the cheek or something similar, which was what he was accustomed to from the girls. What he was not expecting, however, was for his gorgeous attendant to press her lips softly against his. His emerald green eyes shot open like a thunderbolt at the contact, widening to an almost comical size. He simply sat stupefied as she moved her mouth around on his, rather passionately taking in other parts of his face. The much older girl sensually nipped at his lower lip as she pulled back and smiled, staring directly into his eyes.

"How was that for a birthday present, Harry?"

Harry blinked, his senses rather distorted at the moment. He felt extremely hot all over his body, but was gripped by a cold sweat at the same time. The strangest part of his condition was that he experienced some unexplained straining feeling in his trousers. Perhaps he would ask Kim about it during his toilet the next morning. With the way he was feeling at the moment, he knew that he wasn't getting back to sleep anytime soon.

"It w-was...nice...I...I...g-guess."

"Wonderful, I'm glad you liked it. See you in the morning."

"Tomorrow, then. If you don't mind, please turn my lights on before you go."

"Sure thing. Goodnight, Harry."

Alyssa waved flirtatiously over her shoulder as she sauntered off into the night, flicking Harry's light switch on just as she left his room. His internal systems were starting to stabilize by this point, leaving him to ponder what had just taken place. His stammered answer to her hadn't been untrue. Physically, the kiss had been very nice, and had made his entire body feel good. Emotionally, however, things were very much the opposite. Harry wasn't unaware of what kissing on the mouth signified. He had clandestinely delved into some of Christine's rather burlesque romance novels in the past. Kim had given him an unusually stern lecture when she had finally caught him with one, saying that he was far too young to be reading such filth, and had threatened to tell the old lady if she saw him with one again.

Alyssa had kissed him as she would a lover, and Harry didn't feel comfortable with that at all. These kinds of things were meant for adults and he in no way thought of himself as one. While his fanciful side found the idea of her having such feelings for him to be flattering, the rest of him found it very unsettling. And Harry was a hopeless romantic in his innermost heart, a natural result of his fascination with reading and his sheltered upbringing. He saw a person's first kiss as a priceless treasure to be given to someone special and held in memory forever. And yet, his had just been stolen away without his consent, and by somebody that he loved and trusted. The thought left him very depressed and sad. Harry sniffled and a few tears rolled down his cheeks.

He sat up and reached for his books, desperate for anything to read so that he could escape from his current misery. The large, mysterious tome was the first to catch his eye. The book itself seemed to be alive with the forbidden sorcery of which its pages told, and the addictive allure of the black magic tugged at the young Harry's senses, numbing his pain and promising even greater relief should he simply open the cover and partake. But even as impressionable as he was, the child prodigy also knew well the dangers of the Dark Arts, had read about how they twisted one's appearance and very soul beyond recognition. His soul was one matter, but to risk his handsome good looks was absolutely unthinkable. He forced all thoughts of reading the book out of his mind, instead opting for a safer diversion in the form of Gilderoy Lockhart's _Year with the Yeti_. He read voraciously for several hours until he finally fell asleep with his nose in the book.

* * *

Nearly three weeks later, Harry sat at the breakfast table with his grandmother, dressed in his wizarding best. In ten days' time, he would be off to Hogwarts, but today he was to make a return to Diagon Alley. Particularly, he would ascend to the rightful lordship of the Potter family and claim his lands and titles. As promised, the Malfoy family had opened the floodgates on Harry's behalf, spreading the story of Albus Dumbledore's meddling to everybody who would listen. The wizarding public was outraged upon reading of the old man's denying their hero his inheritance in _The Daily Prophet_. That fact, combined with the elder Malfoy's sway over both the old magical families and Cornelius Fudge, left the wizened professor with little choice but to agree to arbitration with the goblins. 

The hearing in itself was largely a formality. The Ministry of Magic had staunchly taken Harry's side in the debacle, aided by the spreading of more than a few Galleons by Lucius, and magical custom and tradition were on the young wizard's side. Still, Dumbledore was determined to have his say with Harry personally, and so both he and his grandmother were headed to London. The old lady was ecstatic to finally have her opportunity to give Albus a piece of her mind. Harry just wanted another chance to go shopping for more clothes and adornments after the proceedings.

"Hurry up and finish your breakfast, Harry. We're due to meet Lucius and Narcissa in just over two hours."

Harry had been more than a little surprised when Draco's parents had come calling for afternoon tea the previous Saturday. They had seemed rather impressed with the size and layout of the manor and grounds, particularly with the fact that it was all very traditional and devoid of many modern electronic devices. It was true that the Evans estate could easily belong to an old wizarding family with a few slight changes in the interior decor. Lucius had already sent news of the hearing through Draco's owl, as he and Harry had kept up a correspondence ever since their meeting on his birthday. Therefore, the motive behind their coming had simply been to introduce themselves to the family. Both purebloods had kept their distaste for Muggles very carefully hidden during the visit, and Narcissa was able to converse with the old lady quite easily. Harry and his grandmother would meet the couple in the entrance lobby to Gringotts at noon.

"Of course, grandma. I still can't believe that we have to go to this ridiculous hearing. The old man should simply let this go."

Azalea smiled at hearing her grandson take a brief shot at Dumbledore. Harry normally wasn't one to voice such negative remarks, but insulted the man regardless to please her. She raised her walking stick and shook it.

"Don't you worry. He's a meddling old snake in the grass, but he won't get the better of us. Should he prove too much of a problem, then I'll give him a good wallop."

Harry continued eating his blueberry pastry without a word. He really wished that he could show the girls around Diagon Alley. After that somewhat traumatic night, he found it in him to forgive Alyssa. After all, she hadn't known that what she had done would cause him grief. Much the opposite, she had only wanted to show her affection for him. Besides, she had been punished for her mistake. Kim had noticed dried lip gloss on Harry's mouth when waking him up the following morning, and immediately deduced how it had gotten there. Alyssa came in later than evening with a pronounced black eye. The buxom girl accepted her reprimand without complaint, but still came to visit Harry at night periodically. After the first kiss, the others didn't bother him so much. She was much more careful about removing the evidence in those trysts, though, and received no additional bruises for her efforts. Harry was rather enthralled by the romantic aspect of having a secret lover, even though they had done nothing beyond closed mouth kissing.

With thirteen minutes to spare before noon, Harry helped his grandmother through the front doors of Gringotts Wizarding Bank. He was wearing tight black silken robes and his royal blue cape was clasped around his neck, peacock cowl proudly exposed for the world to see. His dragonhide boots clicked rhythmically against the floor at a slightly lower pitch than Lucius Malfoy's trademark cane. The knee breeches completed his aristocratic look. He was to be anointed a nobleman this day, and had to look the part. Azalea was garbed in a formal dress and hat, proper wear for a formal transaction in the Muggle world. Both Lucius and Narcissa were already present and waiting as arranged, and Draco was with them. The patriarch was the one to address Harry and the old lady.

"Harry, Madam Evans. Good morning to the both of you."

"The same to you, Mister Malfoy."

Lucius let out a soft chuckle.

"No formalities, my boy. Let us proceed to the hearing. Goblins are nastily punctual creatures, and it simply wouldn't do to be tardy."

Harry simply nodded and the small party proceeded to the conference room where the proceedings were to take place. Lucius and Narcissa led the way, while Draco fell in step with Harry, who was helping his grandmother along at his other side. The Malfoy heir cast an appraising eye over Harry's choice of clothing.

"I just knew you were going to wear that ridiculous cape today."

Harry shrugged with a smile.

"You'resimply jealous of my impeccable fashion sense. I can hardly believe school's starting in less than a fortnight."

"And you're spending every waking second bemoaning your cruel fate. Your letters always reek of optimism."

The sarcasm in Draco's voice was veiled thinly enough that the old lady didn't seem to notice it. Harry was grateful for the fact, but decided to shift the topic of conversation to something more enjoyable.

"It shouldn't be such a hardship. The school grounds are rather nice, at least from the photographs I've seen. Though the castle's architecture looks a bit too dreary for my tastes. It just seems so dark and unfriendly."

The platinum-haired boy shook his head.

"I hope you've been going over your textbooks. Professor Snape likes to grill people during the first Potions lessons. Of course we'll both be in Slytherin, so there won't be too much to worry about. He always favors our house."

"Again with that act. I swear that I'm going to get myself tossed into Hufflepuff just to spite you."

"An empty threat, Potter. You can't fool me. Besides, it's the hat that decides where you go."

"Then perhaps you'll get landed in Gryffindor. You have just about the requisite wit."

They arrived at their destination before Harry could make any retort. The room contained a rounded table surrounded by a number of tall wooden chairs. They looked rather stiff and uncomfortable. Two figures were already seated in the room. The first was a goblin, and from the looks of its dress, one with considerable rank within the Gringotts hierarchy. The other was a wizard whom Harry assumed to be Dumbledore. He was a portly little man dressed in an absolutely horrid pinstriped suit, with gaudy purple shoes and an atrocious lime green bowler hat. The man was a walking fashion disaster. A quick glance at Draco revealed that the other boy held a similar opinion. "Dumbledore" exchanged pleasantries with Lucius and then swaggered over to Harry and shook his hand excitedly.

"Harry Potter. An absolute pleasure to finally meet you after all these years."

"And you as well, Professor Dumbledore."

The man gaped at Harry as if he were insane, then burst into laughter.

"Listen to this, Lucius! This boy thinks I'm Dumbledore! I haven't heard such a good one in ages. With such a slick tongue, he's surely destined for a successful career in politics."

Both elder Malfoys looked startled and amused, whereas Draco was snickering and the old lady remained stoic aside from a small smile. Lucius strode forward to introduce them, just barely keeping his mirth in check.

"No, Harry. That is not Albus Dumbledore. Allow me to introduce you to Cornelius Fudge, our Minister of Magic. He is the chief executive of the government, and the most important wizard in the British Isles. I've asked him to be present today in order to ensure that Dumbledore makes no attempts to overstep his authority. And speaking of whom, it would appear that our esteemed headmaster is late."

Fudge was right smug at hearing his position being glorified. At that point, a serene voice spoke from the entrance, seemingly as humored as everybody else.

"Not at all, Lucius. Much the opposite, in fact. I daresay that I have arrived just in time."

Harry glanced over at the real Dumbledore. The man was the very textbook image that a Muggle fairy tale might ascribe to a wizard. Extremely tall and ancient, with long silver hair and a matching beard that hung to below his waist. He was dressed in golden robes with red trimming, with pointed shoes on his feet and half-moon spectacles resting upon his crooked nose. But his most striking feature was his eyes, crystal blue and shimmering like a clear lake on a sunny afternoon. Eyes that soothed Harry, telling him that the man could be trusted. He could almost sense the pure magic radiating from the old man's resplendent form. He had substantial difficulty believing that Dumbledore could truly be the wicked old man that his grandmother had so often warned him about. Lucius just gazed contemptuously at the old wizard, as Fudge spoke up.

"Ah, Dumbledore. There you are at last. Now we can get this hearing underway."

Dumbledore inclined his head slightly in the Minister's direction.

"Of course, Cornelius. Just allow an old man a brief moment to catch his breath. Harry, it pleases me to see you grown into such a handsome young man. Professor McGonagall has told me that you have displayed considerable aptitude in both Charms and Transfiguration. Absolutely wonderful, I am sincerely looking forward to finally having you at Hogwarts."

Harry nodded, almost too nervous to speak in the great wizard's presence.

"Y-yes, sir. Thank you, headmaster."

The goblin at the other side of the table cleared its throat audibly, simultaneously drawing everybody's attention.

"All required parties have arrived, so we shall now begin. We are gathered here today to discuss and resolve the right to inherit of Harry James Potter, sole heir of the late Lord James Potter and Lady Lily Potter. Lord Lucius Alexander Malfoy has levied on young master Potter's behalf and with his consent an official charge of misappropriation against Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Professor Dumbledore is the controller of the Potter estate, as well as young master Potter's magical guardian. Representing the Ministry of Magic in an official capacity as a witness is Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister of Magic. My own name is Mingyar. As head of the Department of Probate for Gringotts Wizarding Bank, I shall serve as both judge and jury for these proceedings. Lord Malfoy, you may present your arguments first, seeing as you are the plaintiff in this hearing."

Lucius rose coolly to his feet.

"My case is rather simple. Old magical laws and customs stand as the highest authority in the land, and they state that an underage heir of an aristocratic wizarding line has not only the privilege but also the obligation to accede to his lands and titles if no other scion can be established in regency. There are regrettably no other Potters left in existence. Every branch of the family has been extinguished as a result to the purges that took place during previous rising of the dark. Albus Dumbledore has no right whatsoever to intrude upon these precepts, and has further willfully deceived Harry Potter through establishing a fraudulent trust vault in the boy's name and passing it off as the full Potter inheritance. As chairperson of the Magical Society for Pureblooded Advancement, I demand that he stand aside and allow this young man to assume his rightful position in society."

Mingyar lowered his head in acceptance, acknowledging the validity of the accusations.

"Given the aristocratic status of the Potter line, the old laws are indeed applicable. Professor Dumbledore, unless you can provide an extremely prevalent reason as to why young master Potter should have his inheritance delayed, I will have no choice other than to rule these proceedings in favor of the accuser. Such a judgment will also render your status as the boy's magical guardian null and void, as an invested old family head is considered a legal adult regardless of his or her age. Lord Malfoy, you may be seated. Professor Dumbledore, you may now rise and answer the charges."

Dumbledore stood calmly as Lucius returned to his chair with a victorious sneer.

"I am not blind to the old magical laws and their application. However, we must also take extenuating circumstances into account. Harry Potter is a celebrity, with a name and reputation revered throughout the wizarding world. He will doubtless have considerable difficulties handling his fame and legend while studying at Hogwarts as things stand now. Surely you cannot fail to see that adding the social and political responsibilities of being head of an old family to his existing burden would not be advisable. I would prefer to see him be allowed to complete his schooling and become acclimated to our world before being forced to take on these additional duties. He is still a boy, and should be allowed to enjoy what precious little childhood he has. He is not yet ready to assume a man's role."

Harry silently agreed with the old man, but even he could clearly understand that Dumbledore's counter arguments made no stand against the old laws. This hearing was practically decided already, and the young wizard felt no particular need to speak to either side of the issue. However, his grandmother had absolutely no intention at all of simply remaining quiet.

"Do kindly shut your mouth, Dumbledore. I'll not listen to you stand there and speak as if you have my grandson's best interests at heart."

To his credit, the old wizard simply turned to regard Azalea, his eyes twinkling merrily.

"Good afternoon, Madam Evans. I had not even noticed that you were in attendance here today. Do be so kind as to forgive an old man's absentmindedness. I trust that these later years have treated you well. As for your allegations, please allow me to assure you that I have nothing but Harry's utmost well-being in mind."

The old lady glared balefully at the much taller man in response.

"Yes, just as you had my daughter's well-being in mind when you stuffed her into hiding a decade ago, for all the good it did. And I suppose you thought only about Harry's protection and happiness when you placed him in an abusive home without so much as a mention to the rest of the family. Your lies fool nobody, Dumbledore."

Mingyar looked a bit irritated at this interruption to the official proceedings, but kept his own counsel. Draco and Narcissa both stared at Harry as if asking for an explanation. Lucius scowled sharply at Dumbledore, and then glanced to Azalea.

"Please explain, Madam Evans. I believe that this story needs to be told."

The headmaster appeared apprehensive, but nonetheless determined. Harry could tell from the look on the old lady's face that she was thoroughly enjoying this moment. She had always blamed Albus Dumbledore for the fate of Harry's mother, and now she would finally have her revenge.

"Of course, Lucius..."

Azalea went on to vehemently describe the circumstances of Harry's retrieval from Privet Drive. He kept his gaze trained on far wall during the entire retelling, mortified at having his abuse talked about in front of this gathering. Dumbledore became increasingly on the defensive, acutely aware of the outraged looks being cast in his direction by most present at the hearing. Narcissa Malfoy had the most poignant response to the old lady's tale of woe.

"And we trust this man with stewardship over our children at Hogwarts. He should be facing criminal charges for such gross negligence. It leads me to wonder how many other war orphans have been forced to live in abuse and squalor due to his poor decisions. Lucius, perhaps we ought to consider sending Draco to Durmstrang after all. I'm quite certain that Igor Karkaroff would accept Harry as well."

Azalea crowed victoriously as she produced a letter from her handbag.

"I don't know about any Durmstrang, but it just so happens that Harry received an invitation to attend Beauxbatons Academy in France through owl post last week. There are still a few days left before the enrollment deadline."

Cornelius Fudge made to intercede before things got too far out of hand.

"Do be reasonable, now. The very idea of the Boy-Who-Lived not attending Hogwarts is absolutely preposterous. And come now, Lucius. You know better than I do that the Malfoys have been proudly attending the school ever since its founding. Surely that counts for something. Dumbledore, I do believe that you owe this young man as well as the rest of us an explanation for these actions."

Albus shook his head sadly, steepling his hands in front of him with a sigh. He had obviously not expected to run into a proverbial brick wall with this simple inheritance dispute. Harry stared at the old man, watching his aura of power and authority dissipate. The process depressed him for some reason.

"There was a reason, of course. I find myself disinclined to reveal the specifics of this information, out of concern that it might fall into the wrong hands. Suffice to say that despite Voldemort's downfall, there still remain many elements within our society that would do Harry Potter considerable harm given a viable opportunity to do so. Placing him with his Muggle relations was the only option available to me that would ensure his safety. I was completely unaware of any inherent dangers that Harry might have faced with the Dursleys, and I can only offer a sincere apology and hope that he will be magnanimous enough to accept. I have made a grave mistake."

Harry was genuinely torn for a moment between Dumbledore's pleading look and his grandmother's furious glare. He had no opportunity to make a decision, as the old lady went onto the offensive once more. Azalea's voice took on a cold and mysterious tone.

"Don't you dare accept that man's apology, Harry. You were never in any mortal peril, as he very well knows..."

Dumbledore visibly paled as his mind grasped the significance of Azalea's words. Lily had apparently told her the Prophecy before her death, and now this old Muggle woman in her misplaced vindictive fury was going to spew forth the Light's most heavily guarded secret in the presence of a man who had been among the most ardent and loyal supporters of Voldemort. Were Lucius Malfoy to hear the full Prophecy, the potential consequences would be catastrophic. The twinkle left the old wizard's eyes, replaced by a cold fury. Harry tensed in his chair, instinctually reaching for an object near his right hand. The headmaster interrupted Azalea's rant, his voice as hard and clear as diamond.

"Madam Evans, I would strongly advise you to speak no further on this subject."

Harry's rage ignited and began to spread and burn within his body. Dumbledore's words carried a tangible threat directed at his grandmother. Harry was a distant cry from being any sort of fighter, but the boy steeled himself regardless. What he was preparing to do was virtually tantamount to suicide. Albus Dumbledore was the most powerful wizard on the planet, but Harry didn't give a single whit. Nobody spoke that way to her. His magic responded to his desire to protect his grandmother from harm. His power increased tenfold. The boy's emerald eyes began glowing. Draco noticed the phenomenon and locked onto Harry's hypnotic stare, only vaguely aware of the events taking place around him.

"Do not threaten me, Albus Dumbledore. I will say my piece. Listen well to me, Harry. You have been protected since even before your birth by a certain Prophe..."

Dumbledore sprang to his feet and thundered in a loud voice. Lucius nodded to his wife and both reached for their wands. Fudge was a step away from cowering under the table. The goblin Mingyar signaled to another standing at the entrance to the room.

**"YOU WILL BE SILENT, MADAM..."**

Harry required no further provocation than that. He flung the object in his hand directly at Dumbledore's face. His aim was true, and the large ceramic inkpot shattered on contact. The black substance flew all over the headmaster's face and upper body, blinding him and choking him by getting into his nose and open mouth. Dumbledore hacked and staggered, caught completely off his guard by the sudden attack. Harry didn't wait for him to regain his bearings. He sprang to his feet and drew his powerful peach blossom wand. This would mark the first time he had ever used it, and he did so in an all-out assault on the only wizard that Voldemort had ever feared.

_**"STUPEFY!"**_

The red light exploded from Harry's shaking wand hand with the size and relative force of a cannonball. The powerful Stunner impacted Dumbledore's stomach, driving him several feet backwards and close to the wall. The force would have likely killed any other wizard. The old man doubled over as the wind exited his lungs. Rage not satisfied, Harry fired again...and again.

**_"STUPEFY! STUPEFY!"_**

The second Stunner hit the headmaster in the shoulder and sent him the rest of the way into the stone wall with enough velocity to crack the structure. The third scored directly on his sternum, crushing him against the unforgiving stone and sending him crumpling to the floor in a heap. Somehow, he was still conscious. Dumbledore rose to a knee shakily, drawing his wand and casting aside his ink-covered spectacles. He stopped short at the sight that greeted him. Both Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy had their wands trained directly onto him, and then there was Harry. The boy hero's magic was alive, his aura visible and burning hotter and brighter than the sun. A red haze surrounded his body and tendrils of raw energy snaked outward from the source. Seeing such a degree of power from a mere child caused Albus to reconsider the logic of pressing this particular skirmish, especially considering that said child also had a consummate dark wizard in Lucius to aid in the attack and a more than adequate witch in Narcissa providing support. The aristocrat addressed the compromised headmaster in his coldest tone, the trademark Malfoy sneer upon his face.

"You first threaten a defenseless old woman, and then motion to attack her grandson for defending her. A very poor show indeed, Dumbledore."

His wife provided a second remark, looking every part as disdainful as her husband.

"Perhaps you would be best served to walk away, Albus. Even in your senility, you should know that some battles are better avoided."

Harry advanced a step, shielding the old lady behind. The raw power burning through him was making him feel rather ill and overexerted, but he spoke with an uncharacteristically strong resolve.

"If you ever threaten my grandmother again, then I swear on my mother's name that there won't be enough left to you to provide so much as a snack for the crows. You've done enough harm, and I don't want you here any longer."

Mingyar, who had remained silent throughout the entire confrontation, agreed.

"Your presence is proving to be a detriment, Professor Dumbledore. I'm afraid that I'm going to have to ask you to leave. Security, please escort this man out to the lobby."

A party of security goblins came to escort the headmaster from the hearing, and he conceded and allowed himself to be led away without so much as a murmur of protest. Fudge left immediately behind Dumbledore, stammering about needing to return to the Ministry building in order to smooth over Harry's underage magic use. Nobody bothered to pay the blustering fool any notice.

With the threat of an enraged headmaster nullified, Lucius took a moment to look over Harry. His aura was now beginning to withdraw back into his body, as he leaned against the table breathing heavily. The aristocrat shared a significant look with his wife, a droll smile slowly adorning his pointed features. Draco was outright staring at the other boy with reverence. The implications were painfully obvious. An eleven-year-old boy had just soundly defeated the legendary Albus Dumbledore. The fact that Harry had done so through somewhat dishonorable means had no bearing at all upon the Malfoy family, being the proud Slytherins that they were.

"Most impressive, Harry. Most are neither able nor willing to stand up to Albus Dumbledore. You have proven to be equal to both. Now then, as the dissenting party has been so gracious as to withdraw his objections, we perhaps ought to stamp out his farcical claims permanently by conducting the ascendancy ceremony here and now."

Mingyar expressed his approval.

"I agree wholeheartedly. As it happens, I have brought the Potter family ring with me to this hearing. This entire hearing was completely unfounded. Gringotts would never rule against upholding the old customs, and I would have rejected Professor Dumbledore's proposals regardless of their validity. Young master Potter, please allow me to apologize on behalf of our entire institution for the trouble you've been forced to endure."

Harry nodded weakly, the sickness induced by the earlier manifestation of his magic beginning to take a worsening toll on him. Draco flinched at the greenish tint on the delicate young wizard's face.

"You're looking rather ill, Potter. "

Harry tried to smile, but it came out as a rather pitiful grimace. Meanwhile, the old lady hobbled over to his side looking concerned. Narcissa came over as well, nodding as she examined him. She had extensive training in the Healing Arts from her own schooling, which had been put to good use on more than one occasion with both her husband and sister as active Death Eaters in the last war. While Harry enjoyed the attention being given him, he had a more pressing desire to have this ceremony done with and rest somewhere more amenable than this hard table.

"I'll be fine, really. I'm just feeling a little bit queasy is all."

"He's more or less correct. His display against that old fool has overextended the poor child's magic. With some proper restorative potions and rest, he should be fine. The more pressing matter is that we complete this mess before he loses consciousness."

"Then let us waste no more time. Lord Malfoy, I assume that you will act as young master Potter's witness?"

Lucius nodded and replied imperiously.

"I, Lucius Alexander, Lord of the Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy do hereby recognize Harry James Potter as the rightful heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Potter and bear witness to his ascendancy forthwith in accordance with the traditions of old. May he succor and serve his bloodline with pride and honor."

The goblin rose from his seat and brought a small wooden box over to Harry's position, beckoning the young wizard to open it. The Potter family signet ring was simple in appearance, a double gold band encrusted with a large ruby. He slipped it onto his finger and gave it a casual glance. Draco appeared just slightly envious of the fact that Harry was wearing an official signet ring at the tender age of eleven.

"Not really...my color...but...I suppose it'll just have...to do."

Harry felt a tingling in his hand as the ring bound itself to his magical signature. The nausea was now starting to make his belly churn. Harry recalled nearly being sick the other time that he had visited Gringotts as well, silently cursing his fragile constitution. Lucius raised a platinum eyebrow.

"Curious. The ring is not supposed to bond to the recipient until he or she has recited the oath. At any rate, allow me to be the first to congratulate the new Lord Potter."

Harry's only response was to turn about quickly and empty his stomach all over the stone floor, finally passing out against the table. Had he been awake to see himself, he surely would have been positively disgusted at his unintentionally poor etiquette. At least he had managed not to soil his clothing or anybody else's. Narcissa cleaned the area with a few quick charms and Lucius levitated the unconscious Harry to the Malfoy family's carriage, in which he would be ferried to their Wiltshire manor in order to be treated properly. His favorite silken cape dragged unceremoniously along the dirty floor as they moved.

(End Chapter Four)

**Author's Note: I'm not too sure about how well this chapter turned out. I wanted to get a scene at the end from Malfoy Manor depicting our favorite former Death Eater's motivations pertaining to Harry, but I didn't get around to it. So, that might be in the next update. At any rate, we're headed to Hogwarts with the next.**

**Before people cry foul about what I did with Alyssa and Harry, hear me out. First, those two are not going to comprise the official pairing of this fiction. I haven't given all that much detail about Alyssa's past, but her actions here will be better explained when I do. You'll just have to wait and see what I mean, but that particular angle hasn't run its course quite yet. **

**As for the "battle" with Dumbledore, keep in mind that Harry got the jump on him and just attacked like a rabid animal. He is in no way on the same level as Dumbledore, as evidenced by the fact that the old man took three unprotected Stunners from him at point blank range at the rage-induced peak of Harry's current power level, and didn't even get knocked out. In a straight out fight, the headmaster would quite easily kick Harry's ass to Edinburgh and back. Harry is stronger than most wizards, but nothing compared to Dumbledore or Voldemort. **

**Well, that about does it. Don't forget to review, folks.**


	5. To Hogwarts We Go

_Harry felt a tingling in his hand as the ring bound itself to his magical signature. Lucius raised a platinum eyebrow. The nausea was now starting to make his belly churn. Harry recalled nearly being sick the other time that he had visited Gringotts as well, silently cursing his fragile constitution._

_"Curious. The ring is not supposed to bond to the recipient until he or she has recited the oath. At any rate, allow me to be the first to congratulate the new Lord Potter."_

_Harry's only response was to turn about quickly and empty his stomach all over the stone floor, finally passing out against the table. Had he been awake to see himself, he surely would have been positively disgusted at his unintentionally poor etiquette. At least he had managed not to soil his clothing or anybody else's. Narcissa cleaned the area with a few quick charms and Lucius levitated the unconscious Harry to the Malfoy family's carriage, in which he would be ferried to their Wiltshire manor in order to be treated properly. His favorite silken cape dragged unceremoniously along the dirty floor as they moved._

**Chapter Four: A Malfoy's Machinations – Onward to Hogwarts**

Disclaimer: If you've seen it before, it belongs to J.K. Rowling. Otherwise, it's mine. Naturally, I'm making no money off this. Am I the only one that finds these things to be extremely repetitive and pointless?

* * *

Late that evening, a pensive Lucius Malfoy sat alone in his private study, mulling over the day's events. The Potter boy had exhibited a frightening level of power during his altercation with Albus Dumbledore, and had done what even the late Dark Lord had never been able to do in forcing the old man to his knees. And he had a tangible aura. Very few wizards possessed enough magical strength to accomplish such a feat, even after a lifetime of study and training. And Potter, a mere child, had done it. The strain on his magic had pushed him into unconsciousness afterwards and he was now resting under Narcissa's care in another wing of the manor, but those facts had little bearing of the significance of what Lucius had seen and felt at Gringotts. The boy's power would no doubt increase exponentially as he grew into adulthood and beyond, and Lucius surmised that Potter should surpass both his former master and the old coot in terms of power by the time he reached his full threshold, given the proper stimulation. 

Lucius intended to make it his business to provide that and much more. A plan was beginning to form in the aristocrat's mind. Many would call it a dangerous venture, but the potential rewards were astronomical. Potter had already taken well to Draco and the rest of the family, and harbored a keen dislike for the headmaster. In addition, the boy was an absolute glutton for praise and attention with a level of foolish naiveté that was in many respects comical. It would be possible to subvert him to the dark side. Lucius would worm his way even further into the boy's affections, and take him on as a sort of surrogate son. Not in the legal sense, as Potter was legally emancipated and would never part with that old Muggle grandmother of his regardless, but in an emotional sense. The boy's somewhat effeminate nature hinted strongly to the fact that he had never been blesses with a real father figure.

And that was only the beginning. Lucius had reached the conclusion in these past couple of hours that he could turn the boy's burgeoning power to his family's ultimate advantage. With such a power at his command, he could in due time establish himself as the next Dark Lord and bring the Malfoy family to the exalted glory that it had every right to enjoy. Lucius put on the front of remaining loyal to his old master in front of his Death Eater associates, but it was all an act. That creature, hardly even a proper wizard in the genealogical sense, treated his loyal followers no better than bloody House Elves. Lucius, the proud scion of one of the oldest and most prodigious wizarding lines in the entire world, had been forced to kneel like a dog and kiss that half-blood's robes. He had also been made to squander a large portion of his family's fortunes in funding Voldemort's fruitless ventures during the last rising. Neither was the man devoted to his supposed ideals. Voldemort had cared little for the purity of blood or the cleansing of the magical world. His efforts stemmed solely from a mindless drive for personal vengeance against Dumbledore and all Muggles for the abuse that he had suffered as a child. Lucius would never have taken the Dark Mark had he known the true nature of the lord to whom he was swearing fealty. He would be far happier never seeing his former master again.

And that was an additional reason for Lucius to bring the Potter boy over to the dark side, the aristocrat mused silently as he took a sip of his merlot. The possibility lingered that his old master was recuperating somewhere, gathering his energies and waiting to make his return to power. Were that to happen, Lucius would no doubt be forced into the same humiliating service as before, unless he had a stronger power of his own to protect him and his family. Dumbledore was not an option. Lucius would never lower himself to hiding behind that Muggle-loving fool. Upon reaching his majority, Potter could realistically battle against Voldemort and win. Many of the other prominent former Death Eaters would also line up behind Lucius were he to gain control over a power such as that. Most of them had surely been every bit as disenchanted with their former master as he himself had been, but all kept those feelings hidden behind their own masks.

Just as Lucius was about to begin working out the specific details as to how exactly he would put the early phases of his grand scheme into motion, the door opened and his wife entered the room. Narcissa gave her husband a brief kiss and settled down into the armchair opposite him, pouring herself a glass of wine from his bottle.

"Ah, Narcissa. How is our guest convalescing?"

"Well enough, dear. He regained consciousness almost an hour ago. Draco is currently keeping him company in the guest rooms. I have to admit that I was beginning to worry. He was comatose for well over eight hours. That outpouring of magic was really too much for the poor boy's fragile body to handle."

Lucius chuckled and smiled at his wife. They were a loving couple beneath the cold and unfeeling veneer that they exhibited in public. It was one of the admittedly rare cases of an arranged marriage that truly did work out perfectly. She had always had a strong maternal side, and was mostly at fault for Draco's spoiled demeanor. He and Harry Potter had that much in common, which is one of the reasons why they were able to make such fast friends. Ironically, what Lucius had long viewed as his son's most abysmal failing would now prove to be one of his greatest assets in the task to which he was to be set.

"You seem to have formed quite an attachment to the child."

"He's such a sweet boy, Lucius. I couldn't imagine a person not adoring him on sight. I had always expected that the Boy-Who-Lived would be a perfect clone of his father. Obnoxious and arrogant, and a Gryffindor to the core of his being. And I'm sure that's exactly how he would have ended up had Dumbledore been given his way. It's such good fortune that you happened upon him in the bank that morning. Imagine, the savior of our world growing up with only that small vault to sustain him."

"Indeed, being introduced to the respectable side of wizarding society from the start will do him nothing but good. I have every intention of keeping a close watch over him at Hogwarts and will instruct Draco to do the same. I'll not allow the headmaster to manipulate the child into becoming his golden boy."

"That's good. He should be perfectly well within the next few days, provided that he takes the restorative draughts that I've brewed. However, there will no doubt be several repeats of this afternoon's episode as Harry grows older and his magical reservoir continues to multiply and deepen. He is quite literally too powerful for his frame. An effective countermeasure would be to have him embark onto some sort of physical training program to augment his body's tolerance level. It would be best for us to assist him in finding an activity that he enjoys doing and arrange for him to have a private instructor while at Hogwarts. Perhaps Draco could get involved as well."

Lucius nodded his agreement.

"Draco has already informed me that Harry harbors a certain disdain for Quidditch."

"He does seem to be more inclined towards indoor activities. Well, I'm certain that we can help him to choose something."

"I think it would be best for him to simply remain here until the start of term, while his energies recover. I'm certain that his grandmother will approve, and it will afford us adequate time to handle all other arrangements pertaining to his and Draco's schooling."

Lucius naturally had his own personal reasons for wanting to keep Potter around the manor until Hogwarts. It would allow him a perfect opportunity to begin subtly indoctrinating him in the standard pureblooded dogma as he had Draco, and to give both boys some basic tutelage both in the Dark Arts and in proper dueling form. He particularly desired to establish a firm hold over Potter's loyalties before the old man could gain any access to him. Narcissa daintily shook her head in the negative, however.

"Actually, he has already requested that he be sent back to his own home. He apparently has his own retinue of personal attendants who are best suited to catering to his individual needs. He has agreed to remain overnight upon my insistence, but wishes to return to his grandmother's estate in Surrey after breakfast tomorrow morning."

The aristocrat was a bit annoyed at having his plans delayed, but knew full well that he could not keep Potter against his will. There would be time enough to train the boy, especially if Draco succeeded with what he was to be instructed to do.

"I see. I shall speak with him further in the morning. Better to let him rest for now."

"I'm going to go check up on him one last time before retiring for the evening. I'll see you in bed, Lucius."

"Inform Draco that I wish to speak with him here."

Narcissa turned and left with a smile. Lucius immediately turned his mind back to subverting Potter. The first order of business was to manipulate the boy's surroundings at Hogwarts to maximize his contact with suitable young wizards and witches, as well as to keep him as distanced from the old man and his Muggle-loving cronies as possible. In the best case scenario, Draco had and would continue to mold Potter's thoughts and feelings enough that he would be sorted into Slytherin. The next step would be to ensure that he received the proper education, both in terms of magic and doctrine. Lucius had made a preemptive strike on that front by smuggling a series of books he had purchased while the boys were at the clothier into Potter's things while the boy was testing wands at Ollivander's. Lucius had sent Narcissa to take care of the lunch reservations on her own that day and had himself patronized a bookstore in Knockturn Alley and purchased the tomes. He doubted that Potter had read them as of yet, but hoped that the boy would keep them with him and partake of the knowledge therein with some instigation from Draco. Lucius would encourage Potter's illicit studies as much as possible without drawing unnecessary suspicion onto himself.

Lucius drained the remainder of his glass, refilling it and swirling the red vintage around slowly as Draco came into the study, an eager expression adorning his pointed features. The boy was lacking in certain qualities that his father deemed appropriate for a Malfoy to possess, namely that he would never be anything more than average in terms of magical strength and that he, despite Lucius's best efforts to train him, possessed nothing remotely resembling tact. However, he was abnormally eager to serve his father and his bloodline, and was Slytherin enough to get along in everyday life.

"You summoned me, father?"

Lucius turned nonchalantly to regard his heir.

"Sit, Draco. I have something to discuss with you."

"Yes, father."

Draco took the seat that Narcissa had been occupying a few moments prior, her glass of merlot still sitting mostly full on the table in front of him. He had always been somewhat intimidated by his father despite the sheer reverence in which he held the older man. Lucius gazed at his only son with cold authority in his gray eyes and began his diatribe.

"Surely you have grasped the significance of the events at today's inheritance hearing. That a boy no older than yourself has managed to display a tangible magical aura and best Albus Dumbledore in combat. Harry Potter will one day surpass that old man as well as our former lord, and it will be sooner than you realize. It is generally the way of our society that the strongest wizards wield the most influence. Though Minister of Magic he may not be, make no mistake that Dumbledore is the most politically powerful wizard in the British Isles, and likely the rest of Europe as well. Potter will one day assume that same role. It is thus to our family's good fortune that I chanced upon him three weeks ago in the bank's lobby and that we have since forged amicable ties with him. The future glory of the Malfoy line is contingent upon our ability to properly exploit this golden opportunity, by keeping Potter staunchly in our corner and ensuring that he develops into a wizard with ideals and principles in line with our own. As his schoolmate at Hogwarts, it will fall largely into your domain to ensure that this takes place."

Draco nodded quickly, visibly pleased at having this great responsibility entrusted to him.

"I understand. I will do my best for the future glory of the Malfoy name. Does this mean that we no longer support the Dark Lord?"

Lucius could not answer his son's query directly. The boy was too prone to opening his mouth, and to declare open opposition to the Dark Lord, alive or otherwise, was tantamount to asking for death. Especially given the fact that Potter was still largely an untested entity. Lucius would begin preparing him for a possible future battle against his former master, but it was far too early to even consider making any moves overtly.

"The Dark Lord is dead and gone, you foolish boy. Now listen well to my instructions. First, you will make your primary objective while at Hogwarts to make flourish your friendship with Harry Potter. You will shadow him as often as he will allow you. You will sit with him on the train, during which time you will devote your energies to molding his opinions in favor of being placed into Slytherin. Failing that, you will also make every effort to ensure that he will look upon being placed into Gryffindor with disdain. Should he end up there, surrounded by Mudbloods and blood traitors, our plans will be compromised beyond salvation..."

Lucius paused for a moment so that he wouldn't lose his breath.

"...Regardless of where he is Sorted, you will employ the influence afforded you by your bloodline to ensure that he is always welcome within the Slytherin common room, and that your future housemates will be nothing less than fully accommodating. I shall deal with Severus Snape personally, so do not concern yourself with him. You will deflect any undesirables who might attempt to befriend him. I trust that you can use your own judgment in making those assignations. You will also be vigilant in seeing that the headmaster and his loyalists make no attempts to sway him into their favor, and will contact me immediately at even the slightest suspicion of such doings on their part. I trust that I am making myself clear thus far."

"Yes, father. I won't disappoint you."

"See to it that you do not, son. Now, regarding his education as well as your own. I have taken the liberty of clandestinely providing young Potter with certain tomes of my selection. You will make every effort to persuade him to learn from them. The Dark Arts are naturally at high priority, but foremost is Occlumency. Dumbledore is an accomplished Legilimens, Snape even more so. For either of them to gain insight into our plans through either of you would be disastrous. Therefore, you will learn to Occlude your mind through the book that I have provided him, and see that he does the same. This is to be done before embarking upon any other ventures. It would not due for the staff to gain insight onto the fact that the two of you are studying illegal sorceries. Also, you will attempt to indoctrinate him in the proper ideals for a young pureblooded lord. I have provided a leading treatise concerning the subject, but it will be up to you to convince him to read it and take its content for being the truth that it is. I will assist in these matters as I am able, but my ability to do so is limited, even though I am a school governor."

"I will see to it."

"Excellent. Now remember, you must be subtle in all matters. Do not attempt to force him into accepting our ideas, and do not argue so far as to provoke confrontation with him. To alienate him at this early juncture would be risking everything. Prod at him gently and consistently. Do so in a friendly, but still serious manner. Keep in mind that Potter had been raised in a Muggle household. His grandmother is as close to a respectable woman as one of her unworthy stock can be and he will defend her honor violently, as our esteemed headmaster can now attest. Any comments uttered regarding the inferiority of Muggles and their impure magical swine must be veiled carefully. Apprise your housemates of this in advance, and inform them that any related breaches of decorum in his presence will be met with my most extreme displeasure. His opinions will assuredly change in time, especially after reading the treatise, but it will be a slow and rather painstaking process."

"I will be careful, father."

Lucius was at least satisfied with the fact that his son was simply listening and not offering up inane comments of his own. It was important that he remember his place and show proper deference to his superiors. His current instructions were sufficient for the time being, as these first steps had to be made before larger ones could follow.

"Very well, that will be all. Do not fail me in these tasks, Draco."

Afraid to speak further after being dismisses, Draco bowed and left his father's study. Lucius downed his glass of merlot and poured himself a third, silently toasting himself and his cunning. The Malfoy family's ascendancy to power was not far from being at hand. Due to his efforts, Lucius and his descendants would rule over the magical world.

* * *

The first of September finally came around, and Harry was set to leave for Hogwarts. He was navigating his way through the mob at King's Cross, glancing about with disdain at all of the chattering people around him. He really did despise London, with all of the constant noise and horrible squalid air. His full entourage was present to see him onto the train and off to school. Harry led his grandmother, and all five of the girls created a sort of protective ring around them. One of the estate's more able bodied young men brought up the rear, toting the young wizard's loaded school trunk. 

He had been more than a little surprised to awaken after his ordeal at the inheritance proceedings and find himself in a strange bed with Mrs. Malfoy staring directly into his eyes. Their ancestral home in Wiltshire was beautiful and even larger than both mansions of the Evans estate put together, but Harry found it to be rather gloomy. He was unsettled by the fact that all of the portraits on the walls were, for lack of a better term, alive and watching him at all times. He glimpsed several of those hideous creatures like the one that had been with the family at Diagon Alley peering at him from time to time. His stay had been short, however, and having both Narcissa and Draco keeping him company had helped tremendously in warding away the general aura of dread melancholy that seemed to be an inherent facet of the old manor.

Once home, his grandmother kept him bedridden for several more days, fearing that his condition might relapse. The girls doted on their infirm benefactor constantly, and Harry found himself wishing that the episode might repeat itself. The remaining week passed quickly, and Harry managed to finish _Year with the Yeti_, had read _Traveling with Trolls_ in full, and was now a third of the way through _Voyages with Vampires_. He found Gilderoy Lockhart to be a truly fascinating author, and the man was obviously a great wizard given all of his accomplishments. Of course, that was only fitting for a man with such great beauty as his. But the day had finally come, and Harry was forced to depart for Hogwarts, leaving behind all that he had ever known. He was thoroughly depressed and irritable because of it. He was presently keeping an eye open for the supposed Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. It didn't seem to exist. Harry huffed in annoyance.

"I suppose this is designed to be some sort of joke. I'm not laughing."

The old lady placed a reassuring had on her grandson's shoulder.

"Keep your temper, Harry. It seems like only yesterday that your grandfather and I escorted Lily onto the train for the first time. I'll never forget the feeling as long as I live. Just walk into the barrier between the ninth and tenth platforms."

Harry flashed an incredulous look, but stepped forward anyway. He poked the seemingly solid brick wall with his finger, and nearly jumped backwards in fright when it went straight through. With a nod from his grandmother, he walked through, motioning for the others to follow. The platform was a bustling scene, with hundreds of Hogwarts students milling about with their parents, looking for their friends. Harry tried to locate the Malfoys for a few brief moments, but could not spot them. He received a few curious looks from the other children. With his long braided hair and odd clothing, consisting of a sleeveless cream sweater vest, khaki slacks, and his dragonhide boots, he presented a rather unusual sight to purebloods and Muggleborns alike. The boys seemed to find him laughable, but he got some appreciative glances from the girls. That was exactly how Harry wanted things, of course. When the rest came through and it came to light that he had five beautiful girls fawning over him, the ridicule turned into pure scorn. Harry reveled in the attention, sneering broadly at the envious sacks of flesh around him. He would have been content to savor the moment further, but his grandmother spoke.

"You should board the train as quickly as possible, Harry. Your mother always told me that the compartments fill up quickly."

Harry nodded sadly.

"Yes, grandma. But I really don't want to leave you."

"You have to step out into the world someday. Now perk up, it's only a few months. You'll be home for Yule before you know it."

Harry gave his grandmother a hug goodbye while Kim stepped behind him and fastened his cape around his neck, as he had requested her to do as soon as they reached the platform. He held his tears back with some effort, not wanting to upset the old lady.

"I understand, but I'll miss you all."

Azalea, however, could not keep her tears from flowing.

"Of course you will. Study hard, and become a wizard that your parents can look onto from above with pride in their eyes."

Harry hummed noncommittally, releasing his grandmother and taking up Melody in a warm embrace.

"Take care, and don't forget to write me at school."

She kissed him on the forehead in response.

"We'll write you several times each week, but you have to write back. I don't know what you're going to do without us. Or what we're going to do without you, for that matter. Just be strong and take good care of yourself, and we'll do the same."

The hugs and kisses and endearments went around until Alyssa's turn. His would-be lover held him gently, and his body felt on fire as he pressed into her curves. He only vaguely noticed the wet lips pressing against his ear until her breath followed in the form of a whisper drenched with honey lust. He felt that she was being a bit too forward with him given the presence of the other girls and especially the old lady, not to mention that they were in public. Still, he couldn't bring himself to stop her.

"I'm going to miss you so much, Harry. I'll have a very special present waiting for you when you return for Yule."

"I'll be looking forward to it. Take care, Alyssa."

She held him for a moment longer, before Harry untangled his body from hers and threw himself onto Kim. Aside from the old lady, she was the one that he was most saddened at having to be without. After all, Harry could not remember any time during which she hadn't been by his side taking care of him.

"It's going to be so lonely at the estate without you around..."

"I only wish you could come with me. I'll be lost without my big sister..."

"That's not true. You're going to do just fine, wait and see. Don't pine for us so much that you can't enjoy school. This is a great opportunity for you, Harry. Prove your Uncle Robert and the rest of them wrong and be successful. And you're going to make so many new friends and learn so much new magic that by the time Yule comes, you won't even want to leave. This is what you were born to do, so do it better than anybody else."

"For your sake, I'll try. Just promise me that you'll look out for the others. You and the rest of the girls have always enjoyed more prestige around the estate than even some members of the family, and they along with the rest of the staff resent it. But you've been around there for almost ten years and know the system. Please don't let anything bad happen while I'm away."

"Don't grieve over us. Your grandmother wouldn't ever let us be wronged. Just go to school and learn a whole bunch of new tricks to show us over the Yule holidays."

Harry smiled for the first time that day.

"All right then, I won't disappoint you. Get ready for the best show you'll ever see."

He got a beautiful smile in return.

"I can hardly wait. Burn bright, little phoenix."

* * *

After a final round of farewells, Azalea and the girls left Harry to his own devices. Ignoring the small crowd of adolescent males that had assembled to ogle the girls, he levitated his trunk and boarded the Hogwarts Express. As beautifully quaint as the exterior had been, the interior was even more so. Harry felt right at home in the luxurious surroundings. Some of the compartments were already occupied, but he found one that appeared to be empty close to the center of the train. Harry entered and took a seat by the window, withdrawing _Voyages with Vampires_ from his extensive stack of personal reading materials and opening to where he had left off. He let Xiren out of her cage, the growing kitten curling happily onto his lap. Disenchantment had remained at the estate, as he desired for his grandmother and the girls to have a post owl to deliver their letters so him. He could always borrow Draco's owl for his replies if need be. 

Thinking that he was alone, Harry yawned and rested his feet on the opposite seat. However, instead of landing on a leather cushion, they landed on another person's lap. He put his book down in surprise and looked over, locking onto a pair of surprised obsidian eyes. The other occupant was a Chinese girl. She was short, to the extent that her legs didn't even touch the compartment floor. She had very soft features, and would develop into a beautiful young lady before long. Harry had long possessed a certain sense about such things, and it was often quite accurate. She had been reading a book also, and had apparently been so engrossed in it that she hadn't noticed him entering. She looked vaguely familiar, and Harry remembered her after a few seconds of thinking.

"I remember you. You're the girl from the apothecary in Diagon Alley."

The girl ignored him and quickly returned to reading her book. Harry frowned. He had never been so callously dismissed in his entire life, and he didn't like it one bit. The book she was reading was apparently written in Chinese, judging from the title. He couldn't read it, but he did recognize the illustration beneath.

"That looks like _A Dream of Red Mansions_ from the cover. It's probably my favorite book ever written, though I can't claim to have read it in its original language."

She sighed gently and put her book down again, regarding him momentarily before glancing down at her lap, where his feet still unceremoniously lay. She responded in a quiet and cautious, almost pained voice. Her voice held the slightest hint of a Chinese accent, but it was barely noticeable. Harry was able to get a full glimpse of her raven hair, admiring the way that it reflected the sunlight flooding in through the compartment window, giving it a radiant shine. It reminded him of Kim, who had the same trait.

"Please move your feet. My legs are beginning to hurt."

"My apologies. I deserve to be guillotined. Please forgive me..."

Harry moved his legs immediately, mentally slapping himself for his uncouth actions. The girl nodded curtly and returned to her book without so much as a word of acknowledgment. He was visibly irritated by this second silent rebuke.

"...You aren't being very polite, you know. I'm trying to talk to you here."

The reply he got wasn't even close to what he had been expecting.

"People treat me the same no matter how I treat them. I'm going to get picked on regardless, so there's no point in trying to be friendly. You're no different from the rest."

"I don't understand. I'm a first year, and I've don't even know your name. And I certainly don't want to make fun of you. You're far too beautiful for that."

She threw her book down and glared at him, tears springing to her eyes. Harry was completely nonplussed.

"So that's your game, then. Teasing me by telling me that I'm pretty. I haven't done anything at all to you and I don't need your cruel jokes to remind me that I'm ugly."

Harry, generally used to being comforted rather than the other way around, still decided to try his hand. For such a beautiful girl to have such a low valuation of herself struck a nerve in him. Fixing this travesty immediately became his prime directive. He quickly moved over to sit next to her, leaving Xiren on the seat.

"But...I was being serious. I don't know what other people have done to you, but I never wanted to hurt you at all. I'm honestly just trying to make friends with you."

She met his concerned gaze for a moment and then looked away.

"I don't have any friends. The few that I might have made last year shoved me aside when everybody else started picking on me. I hate it here so much..."

Harry chuckled and rested a hand on her shoulder. She looked back at him with eyes filled with hurt and distrust, and just the faintest glimmer of hope.

"Then we already have something in common. I haven't even seen the school yet, and I already want to leave it. As for you having no other friends here, that's just all the better for me, as I get to lay claim to the distinct privilege of being your first. And finally, any person who says that you're ugly is nothing more than a blind nincompoop and will emphatically hear as much from me."

Harry looked hopefully at her, hoping for a positive reply. Being able to look out for this girl and help mold her into the bombshell that she was destined to be would give him something constructive to do while at Hogwarts. Otherwise he had little to look forward to besides pointless study in courses that he either hated or were far beneath his level. The fact that she reminded him ever so much of Kim was a factor as well.

"You really mean this. I can tell, and I would be honored to have you as my friend. I'm Cho, by the way. Cho Chang. I'm just entering my second year in Ravenclaw."

Harry beamed at her, now truly happy with all thoughts of early homesickness forgotten. He adopted a mock imperious tone as he proceeded to rifle off his introductions.

"Well met, dearest friend Cho. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Harry James Potter, annointed lord of the great and illustrious house that is my namesake, accidental slayer of Lord Voldemort, unwilling hero of the magical world, avid reader of great literature, grand master of eclectic charms and transfigurations, and surely the most beautiful wizard that Hogwarts has ever seen. I'm just entering my first year in anywhere except Gryffindor. And before you ask, I had my scar removed ages ago."

Cho smiled back at him, a beautiful gesture capable of illuminating the darkest room.

"And surely the most humble wizard as well, judging from your speech."

Harry jovially continued with his ridiculous theatrics, intent on entertaining his new friend so that she might forget her past sorrows. Neither of them heard the compartment door sliding open and a trio of figures walking in.

"Alas, perhaps I am ill-suited for a place in House Hufflepuff. Such is fate."

"You're most definitely a Ravenclaw. At least I'll have some decent company now."

A cold drawling voice interjected into their banter.

"Afraid not. He's a Slytherin beyond any doubt, as the wizarding world will soon see."

Harry glanced over to the entrance, where Draco Malfoy stood in all of his smug glory. Behind him were two boys that could best be described as trained gorillas, their vacant facial expressions indicating that they had about that level of intelligence. Harry stood to greet his first and best friend, still keeping an arm on Cho's shoulder.

"There you are, Draco. I didn't catch you on the platform. I had almost worried that you hadn't made it, but surely your father would never have allowed for such a blunder."

"Yeah, we were a fair bit later than he would have preferred, but mother misplaced her favorite necklace and refused to leave until it was found. She was rather distressed upon realizing that she had missed you. I've been looking all over for you, Potter."

"I haven't exactly been hidden. I see you've brought company as well."

Draco glanced back at his two goons, not even pretending to be sorry for not having introduced them. He sprawled out all across his seat, forcing Xiren to abandon her place of rest and find a new perch on Cho's welcoming lap.

"Oh, right...them. Harry, these two are Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. Crabbe and Goyle, this is Harry Potter. I've told you all about him already. Go stand guard outside the door and make sure that no Mudbloods or Weasleys disturb us while we talk. And come tell us when the snack trolley comes our way."

Crabbe and Goyle went to their assigned post without complaint. The two thugs rather painfully reminded Harry of his cousin Dudley, and he was thus inordinately pleased to see them being maltreated. After all, such creatures were deserving of nothing more. At least, it balanced out Draco's use of the derogatory term for Muggleborns. Harry liked the young aristocrat and considered him to be a good friend, but his prejudices were sometimes intolerable. The pale platinum blond shot Cho a dirty look upon noticing her, but said nothing due to the fact that Harry obviously wanted her present. She ignored it and returned to reading her book while Draco and Harry chatted about trivial matters. Draco shot her apprehensive looks every now and then, as if he wanted her gone for some reason or another. Harry didn't bother asking him what the problem was. Draco eventually decided to take a nap, withdrawing a pillow from his trunk and falling asleep.

Harry took advantage of the hostile future Slytherin's incapacitation to spend some more time getting to better know Cho as a person, as he already knew a good deal about her family from his conversation with her parents in Diagon Alley. He learned that she was a diehard Quidditch lover, even more so than Draco, and had been an avid Tutshill Tornadoes supporter practically ever since she could walk and talk. She wanted to try out for the Ravenclaw team herself, but feared that her outcast status would disincline them to allow her a fair shake. Raised as the daughter of a pair of apothecary owners, she naturally excelled in both Herbology and Potions, though her grades only marginally reflected the latter. The Potions Master, she explained, despised anybody not in Slytherin House. Harry had already surmised as much from hearing Draco describe him.

The conversation eventually turned to books, and it turned out that the two had strikingly similar tastes in literature. Cho was quite a bit more studious than Harry, though, which he understood. She was, after all, from a poor immigrant family, and her entire future livelihood relied upon her performance at Hogwarts. She did make plenty of time for pleasure reading, which wasn't particularly difficult at school where her complete and utter lack of a social life allowed her an abundance of leisure time. Harry felt every bit as much at ease with this girl as he did with Kim and the others back at home. The hours passed quickly as Draco continued to snooze, and the door slid open again. Harry smirked at the disgruntled looks adorning the two appointed guards' faces. The new intruder was a somewhat older girl, attractive with wavy black hair. She wore the same make of school robes as Cho, indicating to Harry that she was also in Ravenclaw, and had a silver Prefect's badge pinned to her breast.

"I'd like to take a seat if you lot don't mind. I just got out of the Prefect's Meeting and all of the other compartments are filled. And believe me, I don't much fancy remaining up there sharing with the likes of Percy Weasley and Marcus Flint."

Harry didn't know who the latter was, but remembered Percy as that pompous redhead from his birthday a few years back. This newcomer was pretty and female, and therefore met his initial social standards. He greeted her with a smile and extended his hand.

"Please, sit down. Harry Potter, by the way."

The girl took his hand with a raised eyebrow.

"You're not what I expected from the Boy-Who-Lived. I don't mean it negatively, just that you don't really fit the profile of a conquering hero. You are definitely cute, though. Anyway, I'm Penelope Clearwater, but please just call me Penny. Good morning, Cho. Just about didn't see you back there."

Cho responded with a smile as Harry blushed slightly at being called cute.

"Good morning, Penny. I hope you had a nice summer."

"Just fine, although my OWL's are going to eat me alive this year."

The Chinese girl nodded and commenced reading again, tired out from all the conversation with Harry. That left Penny for him to talk to, not that he minded.

"I hope the goon squad outside didn't give you any trouble. Malfoy insisted on having them stationed there. Better than having them in here, I suppose. You're much more attractive company."

Penny laughed and ruffled Harry's hair slightly. He didn't like having his perfectly plaited mane tampered with, but took it in good humor.

"Quite the little charmer. Give it a few years, and you'll have any girl in this school melting at your feet. No, they didn't pose a problem. I'm a Prefect, handsome. Those two don't seem the brightest sort, but they're apparently still smart enough to know not to pick a row with anybody wearing one of these badges."

At that point, Crabbe poked his head into the compartment.

"Trolley's comin'. Might want to wake Draco up."

Harry nodded his acknowledgment and nudged the pale boy until he awoke. It wasn't a difficult task, as Draco seemed to be a light sleeper. The younger Malfoy rubbed the dust out of his gray orbs and glared at Harry.

"I'll have you know that I was in the middle of a wonderful dream, Potter!"

"Stop whining, Malfoy. The food trolley's on the way."

"Oh...okay, then. About bloody time. I'm famished."

The concessions witch showed up with her trolley of food in due course. Draco bought a ridiculous amount of sweets for his own consumption, while Harry purchased a few Pumpkin Pasties and bottles of juice for himself, along with a large sampling of just about everything to share with the two girls. Cho likely couldn't afford to buy all that much for herself, and he didn't want to appear rude by treating her and not the other. The four ate in relative silence, and Draco seemed much less blatantly rude than he would have been under other circumstances. Harry supposed that he was holding his tongue due to there being a Prefect sitting in the compartment. Presently, Draco opened a Chocolate Frog, which went bounding out of its box and onto Harry's head. The latter had no idea that it was a mere confection, and naturally assumed it to be an actual toad. He responded with a shrill.

"My beautiful hair! Remove this creature from my beautiful hair! Get rid of it at once!"

When no help appeared forthcoming, as the other three occupants were too busy laughing at Harry, he swallowed his revulsion and grabbed the offending animated candy, hurling it from the compartment onto the hallway floor. None perturbed, Goyle retrieved it from the ground and ate it, grinning like the idiot that he was as he smacked his lips. Harry was even more horrified at seeing the big thug consuming a live frog. Penny eventually had the heart to end the joke.

"Harry, that wasn't a real frog. It was only a piece of chocolate charmed to move like one. They come with trading cards of famous wizards and witches."

Harry had the decency to look sheepish.

"Oh, I see. Still, the idea of modeling candy after such a thing is grotesque."

Meanwhile, Draco looked at his Chocolate Frog cards. He had bought three of them.

"Bugger, another Dumbledore. Agrippa...I've already got about ten of her. Oh, but look at this, Potter."

The young aristocrat wore a particularly nasty smirk as he handed Harry the final card, which was one of himself as a baby. The lightning bolt scar was tattooed onto "his" face at entirely the wrong spot. Harry scowled and tossed it back to Draco.

"Yes, quite hilarious. At least I'll be much more fetching as an adult than I was as a baby. I somehow doubt we'll be able to say the same for you."

"Oh, you wound me to the core..._Scarhead."_

Cho noticed the sky beginning to darken outside and checked her magical wristwatch.

"We ought to be coming on the school here before long. You two boys might want to get changed into your Hogwarts robes."

Penny agreed.

"Come with me, Cho. You can tag along on my rounds while they get dressed."

The two girls left, and Harry was faced with his first trial. He had no idea how to change into his school robes, or into anything else. Being pampered all of his life came with a price of its own, apparently. He gingerly removed his boots and stripped off his clothing, trying to mirror Draco's actions. He was able to get his trousers and shirt on without much difficulty, but got tangled up in his robes and stumbled into Draco, sending them both to the ground with a thud. The other boy was naturally none too pleased.

"Merlin, Potter. First you have the indecency to stare at me while I'm changing, and then you come barreling into me like a bloody clod. Get off me and finish dressing."

"I don't know how..."

Harry's reply was barely a whisper, but Draco heard it nonetheless. He laughed unsympathetically, to the point that he was practically rolling of his own volition.

"Tell me that I didn't just hear that. The great and legendary Harry Potter can't change into his school robes on his own. That is so pathetic."

"It's not my fault. My attendants have been doing these things for me all throughout my life. I've never needed to learn how to do them for myself."

Draco continued laughing for nearly a minute.

"And everybody thinks that _I'M_ spoiled. Fine, Potter, I'll dress you. But if it ever leaves this room, Merlin help me, I will make you suffer for it. You might be strong enough to take down Dumbledore, but I will find some way to get back at you."

Harry smiled gratefully, knowing that a Malfoy would ever condescend to do something like this normally.

"It's more embarrassing for me anyway. I'm not going to talk, and I appreciate this."

"Good. Now pay attention to what I'm doing, because there will certainly not ever be a repeat of this."

Draco rather stiffly helped Harry into his Hogwarts robes, and replaced his boots and knee breeches as well. The final touch was the cape, which the dandy young wizard adamantly refused to leave without. The train was rolling into Hogsmeade Station by that point, and the platinum-haired boy started to leave, motioning for Harry to follow.

* * *

Upon exiting the Hogwarts Express, Harry took a moment to admire the beautiful Scottish countryside and breathe in the fresh mountain air. The sun was setting rapidly outside, but he was still able to appreciate the pure tranquillity of his surroundings. It was much akin to being in a dream. A loud cry snapped him from his temporary lull in concentration. 

"Firs' years, o'er here!"

Harry followed the voice, falling in step with Draco, who was occupied with sneering at the titanic form of Rubeus Hagrid. The huge man led them towards the edge of a great lake, its water as black as sackcloth. A myriad of little boats bobbed in the water near the shore. Harry looked up, and saw it. The great stone castle, it appeared to be as old as time itself. He knew better, of course, but the simile seemed fitting. He could feel the pure magic radiating from the structure. Everything became clear to him at that moment. Despite all of the bellyaching and wheedling that he had done in a futile effort to avoid coming, this was where he truly belonged.

Harry Potter had arrived at Hogwarts.

(End Chapter Five)

**Author's Note: This comes out a bit later than I would have like, but papers and finals for my summer courses dictated that I delay. A lot of you folks seem to be worried about Harry being too much of a wimp. He will be growing up, and he will not stay that way forever. It will be a process, however. He is not going to turn into some super mega archmage that knows every form of magic known to wizardkind and has twenty Animagus forms in his first year at Hogwarts. Well, I would never write him that way given infinite story time, but I hope that you get the point. As promised, we are at Hogwarts, and next chapter will be the Sorting Ceremony. It is still a toss-up between Slytherin and Ravenclaw, and that decision will be huge, in that it will set the plot down one of two distinct roads. Give your opinions on which you prefer, if you like.**

**In Slytherin, Harry will eventually turn much darker, and eventually fall in with Lucius Malfoy's general plans. He will not be the man's pawn, nor will he accept being ruled over, but he will accept the alliance and move towards destroying Voldemort only to crush and obliterate the wizarding world in his stead. Magically, he will dabble heavily in the occult, learning only the blackest arts with little regard for anything else. In general terms, he will strive towards becoming an arcane sorcerer. In terms of personality, he will be an elitist, and a cruel and heartless bastard, though rest assured that he wouldn't be hurting the girls or his grandmother or anything. Their fates will be a catalyst for his transformation, rather than a result of it. This is the much angstier and far more disturbing path for this story to take.**

**In Ravenclaw, he will stay more aligned towards the neutral. He may agree with Lucius on some things, Dumbledore on others, but he will follow his own heart. He will likely orient his energies towards learning powerful magic that lies neither in the light or dark spectra. I'm mostly thinking along the lines of elemental magic, designed to inflict mass carnage on the field of battle. Naturally, he would have more traditional magic as well. This Harry would have a cosmopolitan attitude, befriending people from every house and doing as he pleases. Even here, he will grow up eventually and develop some guile. This is a somewhat lighter and more upbeat path, though it will certainly still have its rough and serious moments.**

**In either path, he will retain his personal charm, though it will manifest in different ways. Now, for my last note, I'm going to mention Cho. This is not a Harry/Cho fic, and they will not be ending up together. They will be good friends, and probably never anything more than that. I adore the pairing, but I will be doing something different. As for her characterization, I think it's very possible that she could have been far less popular before really growing into her good looks and having boys start to notice her. More of that story will unfold in the next chapter. Hope you all enjoy, and please review.**


	6. Sorting One's Feelings

_Upon exiting the Hogwarts Express, Harry took a moment to admire the beautiful Scottish countryside and breathe in the fresh mountain air. The sun was setting rapidly outside, but he was still able to appreciate the pure tranquillity of his surroundings. It was much akin to being in a dream. A loud cry snapped him from his temporary lull in concentration._

_"Firs' years, o'er here!"_

_Harry followed the voice, falling in step with Draco, who was occupied with sneering at the titanic form of Rubeus Hagrid. The huge man led them towards the edge of a great lake, its water as black as sackcloth. A myriad of little boats bobbed in the water near the shore. Harry looked up, and saw it. The great stone castle, it appeared to be as old as time itself. He knew better, of course, but the simile seemed fitting. He could feel the pure magic radiating from the structure. Everything became clear to him at that moment. Despite all of the bellyaching and wheedling that he had done in a futile effort to avoid coming, this was where he truly belonged._

_Harry Potter had arrived at Hogwarts._

**Chapter Five: Divergent Paths – Beginning the Odyssey**

Disclaimer: If you've seen it before, it belongs to J.K. Rowling. Otherwise, it's mine. Naturally, I'm making no money off this. Am I the only one that finds these things to be extremely repetitive and pointless?

* * *

After a brief moment of staring reverently at the magnificent castle, Harry turned his attention to the boats with a frown. He certainly wasn't going to travel across that squalid lake in one of these rickety launches. Harry turned to Draco. 

"These boats are positively filthy. They can't honestly expect the likes of us to use them."

The young aristocrat turned with a smirk.

"I'm inclined to agree, but the only alternative is swimming. After you, Potter."

"I don't even know how to swim, not that I'd ever expose these wonderful silks to such dingy water. I have a better idea."

Harry walked over to the near edge of the platoon of boats and drew out his bamboo wand. In his mind's eye, he formed a vision of the great pontoon boats in which he and his grandmother used to ride around the large pond behind the estate. He smiled at the memory of accidentally pushing Kim in once. Her hair was simply beautiful when wet, reflecting even more sunlight that usual. His magic responded to his wish as the small launch transfigured into a large and comfortable paddle boat. Draco was every bit as visibly stupefied by the advanced spellwork as the rest of the ickle firsties. Hagrid just blinked in surprise. Almost in unison, the students began exclaiming loudly at the sight. Harry flashed Draco a goofy grin.

"After you, Malfoy."

"Merlin, Harry. That was bloody amazing. Father was right about you. You really are going to surpass Dumbledore."

Harry smiled, but then grimaced as he saw an unwelcome head of red hair starting towards his location. He had no desire to get reacquainted with Roland Weasel.

"At least in terms of fashion, I'm sure. Now let's climb aboard."

Both boys climbed aboard the pontoon, followed by Crabbe and Goyle. The two young aristocrats sat down on the frontal of a pair of cushioned benches located in the center of the craft. Roland tried to follow them, but one of the two apes shoved him off of the entrance ramp onto the muddy bank. Draco looked down with an approving sneer.

"Serves him right, bloody Weasley. Thinking he's good enough to associate with us."

Harry nodded his agreement, rearranging his cape so that he wouldn't be sitting on his prized accessory garment. Roland glared daggers up at Malfoy and then stormed off towards another boat. At least now Harry knew the family's correct surname.

"They are a rather annoying family, indeed. You ought to see their youngest. A right homely little brat and I had to pass an entire birthday dealing with her making eyes at me and blushing. They must not have much money, given how the whole pack of them stared around my grandmother's estate in awe. It leads me to wonder how the parents manage to support such a litter."

Draco pulled a disgusted face, gray eyes shining with amusement.

"The very thought of a proper wizard like you mixing with one of them is revolting. And you're absolutely right. The Weasleys are the worst sort of blood traitor filth. They live in some hovel, according to father. But speaking of mixing with the wrong sort, I have a bit of a bone to pick with you. You really shouldn't be associating with the likes of that chink girl, Potter. Their kind isn't like us, and it'll lead to nothing but trouble. And then there's that bloody Prefect. I've never heard of a Clearwater family..."

Harry somehow knew exactly where this was going. His temper was already raging from hearing Draco insult Cho and he certainly didn't want to listen to any more anti-Muggle nonsense. He interrupted the pale boy, emerald eyes blazing.

"That's enough, Draco. First of all, that "chink girl" has a name. Cho's been bullied quite enough around here already from what I've gathered, and I would highly recommend that you not add to it or else you'll be staring down my wand. And just don't finish that sentence about Penny. She's been nothing but polite to you."

Draco blinked, incredulous that Harry would actually threaten him. Naturally, he wasn't going to push the issue any further, out of regard for both his own health and his father's orders. All he could do was swallow his venom and nod.

"Fine, Potter. Have it your way. You'll see sense sooner or later. And I won't let you off with anything less than a kowtow when you do."

A simpering female voice sounded from the bank below, just as the frontal line of ships was starting to depart.

"Drakie, tell Crabbe and Goyle to let us up there. We don't want to ride in those filthy boats either."

Draco rolled his eyes and looked to Harry.

"Some friends of mine want to sit here. Do you mind?"

Harry did mind, actually, but agreed out of a desire to make amends for their brief spat.

"That'll be fine, I suppose. They can't be too bad if they're friends of yours."

"All right. Let them up, you two."

Crabbe and Goyle moved aside with stereo grunts, allowing four other incoming students onto the pontoon. Harry noted that three of them were girls. Two of them were quite attractive for their age and the third was not very much so. The only male of the quartet sat on the bench behind Harry and Draco while the girl that looked much like a pug sidled into the platinum-haired boy's side.

"Thank you so much for inviting us, Drakie. This is so much better than the other boats. Now introduce us to your other friend."

"Of course, how rude of me. This is Harry Potter. I already owled you all about us becoming friends at Diagon Alley. He's already lord of his estate and you've seen how good he is with his wand. Harry, these four are Pansy, Blaise, Daphne and Theodore."

Pansy Parkinson was the simpering girl attached to Draco. She had hard features, short dark brown hair and the aforementioned pronounced pug nose. Harry greeted her politely, doing his best to hide the instantaneous dislike that he had taken to her.

Blaise Zabini was a much more welcome acquaintance. She had much softer features than Pansy, accentuated by soft green eyes and light brown hair that cascaded down her back like a waterfall. She spoke with a pronounced Italian accent and seemed to be quite well-endowed, having curves that easily rivaled those of many girls several years her senior. She reminded Harry quite a bit of Alyssa. Blaise sat down next to Harry on the far edge of the bench and leaned up against him.

Daphne Greengrass was tall and statuesque, and looked in many respects like a younger Narcissa Malfoy. Her school robes were cut provocatively short and the slits exposed her thighs. She had dirty blonde hair and deep cerulean eyes. As there was no more room on the front bench, she simply plopped comfortably down on Harry's lap and wrapped herself in his cape. Already blushing, he went crimson when Daphne rested her head on his shoulder and crooned into his ear.

"This cape is gorgeous, Potter. You have wonderful taste in clothes."

Harry felt quite gratified by that remark and shyly countered with one of his own. He could see Draco flashing him a knowing grin out of the corner of his eyes. Several people in the boats below stared up at the scene and glowered. He vaguely noted that they were now moving across the lake towards the castle.

"Thank you...though I daresay you make the better accessory."

Daphne shifted her position and looked into his eyes with a teasing smile.

"I'm very functional as well. I'll just have to treat you to a private exhibition sometime, if you like."

Harry blinked slowly, having never been flirted with so openly before. Even Alyssa had always kept her remarks somewhat veiled, to say nothing of his other girls. He didn't know how to respond to Daphne at all. Blaise took away the need by making a comment of her own, moving in much closer in the process.

"Draco tells us that you beat up the old coot. Please recount the story for us."

"Well, if you insist..."

Harry proceeded to tell his own embellished tale of his altercation with Dumbledore. According to his version, he had stood down the old man in a formal duel in defense of his grandmother's honor and emerged victorious. Though both girls surely knew that he wasn't telling an accurate story, they played along nonetheless. As he spoke, they both complimented his bravery and skill to no end and seemed to hang onto his every word. Harry reveled in being at the center of attention and became much less nervous around the pair. Soon enough they had arrived at the far edge of the lake. Draco stood up first and casually shrugged Parkinson off of his arm, looking over at Harry.

"Seems like you're having a time of it, Harry. Blaise and Daph seem to have taken quite a liking to you. See, I told you that Slytherin was the place for you."

Harry found it hard to disagree as Daphne extricated herself from Harry's cape and both girls gently pulled him upright. The group departed from the pontoon and pushed their way to the front of the crowd of first years courtesy of Crabbe and Goyle. A quiet and scrawny boy that Harry recalled being introduced as Theodore Nott brought up the rear. Daphne and Blaise rested their heads upon his shoulders as Hagrid came up to the front and pounded on the huge castle door three times with his meaty fist. It opened nearly immediately, revealing Professor McGonagall waiting on the other side. Hagrid nodded to the stern witch with a smile.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall."

McGonagall returned the gesture, pulling the door open the rest of the way.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take it from here."

"Righ', but there's summat I want ter show yeh after the feast."

The bearded colossus glanced over to Harry with a smile as he spoke. McGonagall followed his eyes and pursed her lips disapprovingly at the sight that greeted her. Harry stood smugly next to Lucius Malfoy's son with two young girls attached sycophantically to his arms. He looked every bit the pampered Slytherin prince. He was dressed in expensive robes and wore an ostentatious blue cape. She turned her gaze back onto Hagrid before the boy noticed her staring.

"Very well then. I shall meet you back here once the Sorting Ceremony has concluded."

Hagrid strolled into the castle as casually as a man his size possibly could. McGonagall proceeded to lead them into a narrow entrance hall and welcome the new students to Hogwarts, describing the four houses as well as the points system. All of this was common knowledge for Harry and his pureblooded companions. He could hear frenzied chatter from the adjoining room, where the rest of the school was obviously assembled. The scene was far too noisy for his tastes, and he knew that mealtimes at Hogwarts were going to be less than enjoyable. Along with most of the other newcomers, he flinched when a whole gaggle of ghosts came flowing out of the far wall and began floating over towards them. One of them was a fat apparition dressed in a Catholic monk's smock. He stopped in front of Draco.

"My word, new students! Hope you see you in Hufflepuff! It was my house, you know!"

Draco snorted disdainfully, but the Fat Friar didn't seem to notice as he headed off towards the Great Hall. Another ghost that appeared to be some aristocrat with silvery blood flowing down his front came and looked appraisingly at both young wizards before nodding approvingly and following the other. McGonagall instructed them to wait as she went to prepare things in the other room. The old witch sent Harry another pointed look as she left. He turned to Draco once she was out of earshot.

"She really doesn't seem to like me very much. I suppose she took my shopping with your family personally."

Draco shook his head before responding in a hushed tone.

"You attacked the headmaster, Harry. Father says that Professor McGonagall practically worships that old fool. It's no wonder she can't stand you now."

Harry doubted the validity of that, knowing that his grandmother would never be close friends with somebody that loyal to Dumbledore. Harry barely noticed Roland Weasley trying to approach him and Draco from behind, but Goyle held him back. Perhaps those trolls had some value after all. Harry said nothing as Daphne complained about poor blood traitors completely lacking in decency. McGonagall returned quickly enough and led the gathering into the Great Hall. There were four long tables for each of the houses and another at the far end of the room for the staff. Harry was amazed by the floating candles and the ceiling that was charmed to look like the night sky.

Meanwhile, a bushy-haired girl with a bossy voice was authoritatively describing how everything in the room worked according to Hogwarts: A History to anybody that would listen. Harry found her gratingly irritating from the very first. She struck him as a complete know-it-all who lacked the capacity to properly appreciate the aesthetic mystique of such beautiful things as this room. He felt that overanalyzing things ruined the pure beauty of the natural world. This was even truer of such a fantastical concept as magic. Draco seemed to be of a similar opinion, as he turned and stared at the girl with derision written all over his pointed face. McGonagall placed a stool in front of the staff table, upon which rested a frayed and dirty old wizard's hat. Harry stared at the offensive headpiece in horror, whispering to Draco.

"Surely we don't have to actually wear such a thing."

"It's the sorting hat, Potter. I'm sure you'll survive putting it on for a few seconds."

"But I'll get dust in my hair, not to mention that donning something that thousands of other people have worn is beyond gross and unsanitary."

"So take a bloody bath when you get to our dormitories."

Harry smirked at yet another insinuation that he'd be placed into Slytherin. He took a moment to look around the hall at the various tables. The green and silver group seemed to be a generally unpleasant lot, sneering at the rest of the room. A lot of the girls were very attractive, though. The blue and bronze Ravenclaws were the next over. They were generally quiet and observant, though Harry spied the pretty Penny Clearwater talking animatedly to a group of her girlfriends at the near end. He also saw Cho sitting all by her lonesome at the very far edge of the table looking downcast. She seemed to feel his gaze, as she looked up and smiled at him, but averted her eyes upon seeing Daphne and Blaise glued to him. Harry felt a strong urge to pull out his wand and blast the Ravenclaw Table to splinters for ostracizing her as they did, and a twinge of guilt for upsetting her more.

The black and yellow Hufflepuffs were third from Harry's left. They looked to be a generally approachable lot with a good number of fetching girls in their own right. Still, they seemed a bit dull for his tastes. Friendly, but hardly the type he'd want to converse with.He looked over to the boisterous Gryffindors with a scowl. They were by far the loudest of the lot. Harry couldn't stand the way they carried on with no regard for proper etiquette. Preoccupied as he was with the students, he nearly jumped from fright when the sorting hat suddenly burst into song.

"_Oh you may not think I'm pretty but don't judge on what you see,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find a smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black, your top hats sleek and tall,_

_For I'm the Hogwarts sorting hat and I can cap them all._

_There's nothing hidden in your head the sorting hat can't see,_

_So try me on and I will tell you where you ought to be._

_You may belong in Gryffindor where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring nerve and chivalry set Gryffindors apart;_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff where they are just and loyal,_

_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true and unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw if you've a ready mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin you'll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning folk use any means to achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don't be afraid! And don't get in a flap!_

_You're in safe hands (though I have none) for I'm a thinking cap!"_

Many of the students burst into applause, both returning and prospective. Harry found the idea of a talking hat fascinating, but still thought the thing to be ratty and disgusting. McGonagall told them each to approach the bench and put on the hat when called. Hannah Abbott was the first to be called. She was a cute little girl with blonde pigtails and looked to be absolutely terrified. After a moment, the hat rendered its verdict.

_**"HUFFLEPUFF!"**_

Draco and Pansy scoffed as the girl went off to join her applauding housemates. Susan Bones was next. Her long hair was neatly plaited but Harry loudly insisted that his was much more beautiful. Susan went to Hufflepuff as well. Ravenclaw then gained two in Terry Boot and Mandy Brocklehurst. Lavender Brown became the first Gryffindor, followed by Millicent Bulstrode for Slytherin. The latter was beyond any doubt the ugliest girl that Harry had ever seen, with a heavy square jowl and the body of an ogre. He repressed his shudder, just in case the girl was friendly with one of Draco's clique. Crabbe and Goyle were predictably made Slytherins, with an Irish boy named Seamus Finnegan going into Gryffindor between the two.

Hermione Granger was next. Harry recognized her as the annoying girl from earlier. He imagine she'd be going into Ravenclaw given her apparent obsession with esoteric and useless knowledge. She went into Gryffindor instead, which pleased him. He saw himself as having no chance of going there and thus her placement minimized his risk of getting an ulcer as a result of having to listen to her. It was then Daphne's turn, as the tall blonde kissed Harry on the cheek and made him blush before flouncing up to the front. A brief moment passed beforethe newest Slytherin grinned back at her fellows still waiting and took a seat at the serpent table.

The ceremony proceeded uneventfully for the most part, though a girl named Su Li stumbled into Harry from behind and nearly bowled both him and Blaise over when she was called. The petite Chinese girl apologized profusely and moved on as Harry glared back at a sneering Theodore Nott, whose outstretched foot betrayed the fact that he had intentionally tripped the poor girl. The rat-faced boy just shrugged at the dandy young wizard in response, while Blaise cursed under her breath at the "filthy chink." Slytherin was starting to look slightly less attractive. Su became a Ravenclaw and sat down across from Cho, almost immediately striking up a lively conversation with the lonely girl.

Neville Longbottom was made a Gryffindor after a long deliberation. Harry recalled him as that meek boy that he had shoved off onto Dudley that one birthday. He would have taken him as a sure Hufflepuff. He was certainly as far from being a loud and impulsive Gryffindor as one could be. Draco laughed caustically when Neville took off to join his housemates with the hat still attached to his head before sheepishly turning back and placing it onto the stool. A few more students were sorted, and then...

"Malfoy, Draco."

McGonagall couldn't keep the hint of dislike out of her voice as she called Draco's name. He clapped Harry on the shoulder before departing with a wry smile.

"Don't worry, Potter. I'll save you a seat next to me."

The platinum-haired boy swaggered up the stool as if he owned the entire castle, sitting down with a satisfied smirk. Draco was the very definition of arrogance. The hat hadn't even touched down on his head when it opened its yap and declaimed...

_**"SLYTHERIN!"**_

Draco proceeded to the Slytherin Table with an aura of entitlement about him. The Malfoy heir commanded the utmost respect within the serpent house, and he was fully aware of the fact. He winked over at Harry, who was watching his antics with amusement. Theodore Nott and Pansy Parkinson successively joined him in Slytherin, leaving Harry and Blaise as the only remaining members of the initial entourage. A pretty pair of Indian twins were sorted into Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, respectively, and then came the main event of the evening's proceedings. McGonagall's voice was a bit misty as she spoke the words.

"Potter, Harry."

All conversation in the Great Hall died instantly and every single pair of eyes rushed toward the remaining unsorted. Harry was on cloud nine, pleased beyond words at the fact that the mere mention of his name brought the entire room to attention. Blaise kissed his other cheek and let go of his arm.

"Good luck, Potter."

Harry drew himself up and preened forward in the direction of the sorting hat. He moved with all of the pomp and majesty of a young king about to be coronated. His advance was deliberate, allowing all present to observe the wizarding world's great hero. At that moment in time, Harry Potter was the crown prince of Hogwarts Castle, and everybody in the premises from the redoubtable headmaster down to the lowliest House Elf was just another member of his court. The only noise in the entire hall was the slow beat of his dragonhide boots clicking on the stone floor. His cape splayed behind him slowly and the ruby encrusted within the Potter legacy ring glimmered in the torchlight. He reached the stool and pivoted sharply on his toes, allowing the royal blue garment to swish dramatically as he daintily sat and placed the frayed hat upon his head. Its slightly familiar voice resonated within his mind.

_"So the Boy-Who-Lived has finally come to Hogwarts. A brilliant mind, loyalty beyond measure, a strong sense of chivalry and not a small amount of cunning. But at the same time, you have a natural disinclination towards study, despise toil, are far from being daring and heroic unless forced, and have no particular ambition. One could say that you belong both everywhere and nowhere. You are quite the conundrum, Lord Harry Potter."_

Harry reflexively turned his gaze to the Slytherin Table, where Draco was staring at him with rapt interest, leaning forward on the table. The pale boy smiled and nodded, patting the empty space on the large bench next to him. The sorting hat's voice rang in his head once more.

_"Then you would consider Slytherin. Certainly you would find acceptance within the serpent's den. You could reprise the lifestyle to which you have long been accustomed. Great power and influence would be yours, and beautiful young ladies would wait upon you hand and foot and gratify your every whim. You would be in many respects a king. And in Slytherin you would learn to command that power and wield that influence. You would forge alliances with the oldest bloodlines and control the greatest of arcane magics. Yours would be a name feared and renowned the world over. Your worst nightmare is that you will one day lose those that you hold dearest in your heart. Your grandmother, your surrogate sister and your other girls. Here you can master the power to hold onto them forever, to conquer even mortality and death. But the price will be steep. Consider these words well, young sorcerer."_

Harry turned to the Ravenclaw Table, where Cho was likewise staring at him. There was a certain pleading in those soulful obsidian orbs that stirred him to the depths of his consciousness. He had resolved to protect her from further suffering, but his capacity to do so would be limited at best in Slytherin. The wise sentient headpiece had another comment to make.

_"And indeed, this is the alternative. Just as that young lady needs you to look after her now, one day soon our entire world will need the same. Should you choose Ravenclaw, your path would not be as simple as in Slytherin. You would have to learn to look at those around you with your own eyes and make your choices accordingly. You would have to learn to care for yourself and survive on your own. Your natural power and intellect lend well to this road. You would not be blinded by the prejudices of your fellows. You would be free to develop wholly in your own image. For indeed, the house that you enter today marks but the starting point of your journey into the future. You are a rarity in that you are truly free to travel any road or river that you wish. No mountain is too steep and no pitfall too perilous for you, for your talents are without limit. I cannot make this decision for you. The choice is yours alone, young icon of the magical world."_

Harry silently posed a question to the hat.

"And what of the other two houses?"

_"You possess some Gryffindor traits, to be certain. You exhibited great courage and nobility in attacking a wizard infinitely more powerful than yourself in defense of your grandmother, and your loyalty to both her and your girls is unbreakable. In that you are also worthy of Hufflepuff. However, in neither of those two places would you ever rise to your true potential. To send you to either would be to do you and the entire world around you a great disservice, and I am unwilling to even consider doing so."_

Harry nodded his acquiescence to the sorting hat's decision on the matter. He didn't envision himself in either place as well. And so it would be Slytherin or Ravenclaw. The question of which seemed to be of a moral nature. Such lofty concepts were Harry's forte, as opposed to those mundane worldly matters that he so disdained. After a moment's deliberation, he gave the hat his decision. He could almost feel the presence smile within his mind.

_"Excellent, Lord Harry Potter. You have chosen correctly. But that path was fated to be yours from the start, only that you first needed to search deep within yourself in order to illuminate and embrace it. Slytherin represented for you the easy path, that fool's road of false comfort and decadence. Ravenclaw represents for you the correct path, that of purification and discovery. However, I again impress upon you that this decision represents but a single step. There are still many pitfalls that could lead you astray. The road ahead is yours to pave. Remain vigilant always, but for this night all you need do is enjoy your feast in..."_

**_"RAVENCLAW!"_**

Harry frowned at the thought of purification as he rose from his seat. He was perfectly content with the person that he was now. He had no desire for power and influence, or to control dark powers and the like. He needed only to be forever happy with his girls, playing games and reading books. Slytherin would have been a comfortable fit but the future that it offered was one that he would sooner disappear than accept. And besides, Harry mused as he put down the sentient hat and began strolling towards the Ravenclaw Table, he needed to look after Cho. His greater purpose here at the moment was to nurture that beautiful spirit. The rest he would uncover in time. He regained his bearings and took a seat next to his vulnerable friend at the edge of the table before speaking in an airy voice.

"I suppose you were right, then. I am most definitely a Ravenclaw."

"I thought I was going to lose my first true friend mere hours after meeting him. You really had me scared there. That hat took forever to place you."

"We had a rather stimulating conversation. In the end, we came to the mutual agreement that Slytherin wasn't the right place for me. Malfoy owes me twenty Galleons now."

That last statement came as a result of the wager that Draco had goaded Harry into during his night at Malfoy Manor concerning his sorting. Some of the older Ravenclaw girls were glaring hatefully at Cho. Scoring the Boy-Who-Lived was a great coup for the entire raven's nest and they didn't take kindly to the house outcast monopolizing the young hero's attention. The remaining students were had being sorted, but Harry wasn't paying any mind at the moment. He methodically draped an arm around the Chinese girl and returned his new housemates' hostile looks in kind.

"Harry, you don't need to do this. I'm not worth making an enemy of the whole house."

Harry shook his head slowly. The action made his ponytail bob like a pendulum.

"Of course you are. You're my friend and that makes you more important than an entire city full of these ignoble peons. Don't ever forget it. And nobody's ever going to bully you around here again or they'll answer to me in a duel. Allow me to assure you that I am every single bit as deadly as I am beautiful."

Cho giggled at that last horribly cliché line, but was also flattered at his readiness to fight for her. Harry himself didn't believe in his declaration. He was potent with his wand, but nothing else could ever compare to his handsome good looks. He absently noticed Blaise Zabini sauntering victoriously over to the Slytherin Table, marking the end of the proceedings before the feast. The attractive young Italian blew him a flirtatious kiss over her shoulder as she took a seat next to an older girl. The headmaster then rose from his position at the center of the staff table to make his speech. Harry noted that his robes were a gorgeous shade of aquamarine, and briefly wished that he were on better terms with the old archmage so that he might ask the name of his designer.

"Welcome! Welcome to yet another year at Hogwarts! Before we begin the banquet, I have a few words to say, and they are - _Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment!_ _Tweak!_ Thank you!"

Harry glanced over at Cho was a confused expression, to which she rolled her eyes in such a way that said that it would be better just not to ask. Albus Dumbledore was certainly an odd individual. The old man raised his hand and massive amounts of food suddenly appeared on the table, causing each to groan under the weight. Harry's eyes widened at the phenomenon, though not actually due to it. He was familiar with conjuring objects to one place from another and the sheer amount of magical power that would be required for what he had just witnessed was simply unheard of. He then fully realized how reckless he had been in picking a fight with Dumbledore that afternoon.

The food was definitely not to Harry's taste. It consisted almost entirely of heavy meats and potatoes. He had never partaken of such gross delicacies back at the estate, as they were bad for his grandmother's fragile health. He finally picked out a few pieces of grilled chicken and some fruit, along with a big goblet of pumpkin juice to drink. He caught Draco's eye not far away at his own table. The pale boy raised his goblet to Harry with a smile in a gesture meant to reassure him that they were still friends despite his not having been made a Slytherin. Daphne and Pansy smiled at him also, and Crabbe and Goyle both nodded. Harry raised his own goblet slightly in response.

As Cho was occupied with explaining some facts about Hogwarts to Su Li across the table, Harry took a long moment to peruse the staff table. Dumbledore nodded to him with a twinkle in his eyes and a smile, raising his goblet in the same fashion that Draco had. Harry again returned the gesture, happy that the old man didn't seem completely sore with him over the episode at the bank. McGonagall sent him a small smile of her own, her expression much warmer than it had been earlier when Harry was cavorting with the Slytherins. The others were a mixed bag. A dwarfish wizard on Dumbledore's other side was positively beaming at him. A greasy man with sallow skin was snarling at him for some reason. Harry assumed that he was Severus Snape, the Potions Master that Draco had talked about. He knew from Cho that Snape disliked anybody not from his own house, but that alone was no grounds for the sheer loathing present in the man's coal eyes. A wizard in a large turban just looked at Harry apprehensively. When the two locked eyes, Harry recoiled in pain as a powerful shock impacted his forehead.

"Are you okay, Harry?"

Harry met Cho's concerned gaze with a slight flinch.

"I'm fine. It was just a sudden migraine. Must be from all the excitement of being at a new school and everything."

The banquet ended quickly enough. Dumbledore rose to make a few announcements, namely that dueling in the corridors was prohibited, that the Forbidden Forest was indeed forbidden and that the third floor was off limits to all students unless they wished to die a most painful death. Harry wasn't an outdoor person and the idea of being killed obviously did little to spark his fancy, so he accepted the regulations. The evening's festivities concluded with a rendition of the Hogwarts school song. The result was an absolute affront to everything musical that Harry found to be hideous.

The assembly finally departed, with the first years being told to follow their Prefects to their respective dormitories. Harry moved quickly to the front of the Ravenclaw parade and stood close by Penny in order to avoid the throngs of people that would invariably want to chat up the Boy-Who-Lived. The journey to Ravenclaw Tower involved climbing half a dozen fights of moving staircases, much to Harry's chagrin. He was a bit short of breath by the time they arrived, unused to such physical exertion. A moving portrait of an old wanderer leaning heavily on a staff marked the entrance. One of the sixth year Prefects announced that the password required for entry was "Socrates." Harry was the first to cross the threshold and take a seat in a comfortable leather armchair in the common room.

* * *

Several hours later, he sat in the same position thumbing through a book on Roman Mythology. Harry had read many of the classics on the subject while growing up, including Homer's _Iliad_ and _Odyssey_ and Virgil's _Aenead_. The wizarding perspective on the subject was quite fascinating, though the way that they were able to explain some of the events that took place destroyed a good deal of the mystique about it. It was normally the scientific Muggle method of thinking that destroyed the aesthetics of magic and not vice versa. Harry felt that the human mind was far too ambitious for its own good. The need to dissect everything in order to understand was rather disgusting. In the end, that sentiment was perhaps the true reason for his not being placed in Slytherin. 

He sighed and looked around the common room. It was completely empty for the moment, as the other students were either already asleep or getting adjusted to their new rooms. He had managed to avoid being trapped into unwanted conversation beyond basic introductions. The place was aesthetically pleasing yet very practical at the same time, a design that only a Ravenclaw mind could conceive. All of the furniture and trappings were in blue and bronze. Harry liked the color combination far better than the gauche red and gold of Gryffindor or the unimaginative yellow and black of Hufflepuff. Shelves of books lined the staircases, but none were simple textbooks. Some were simple fiction novels both from the Muggle and magical world, while others were treatises concerning various subjects of magical interest written throughout the centuries. Harry had struck a gold mine. The entire Ravenclaw library seemed to be oriented more toward pleasure reading and expanding one's mind than learning new spells and such. The portrait opened and Penny walked in. The pretty older girl quickly noticed him and came over.

"Evening, handsome. Scoot over, my feet are killing me."

There were plenty of other chairs and sofas in the common room, but Harry wasn't about to protest. He slid over again the edge of his armchair and allowed her room to have a seat. It was a snug fit, and their bodies were pressing up against one another. Not the least bothered, Penny affectionately slung an arm over his shoulders and started playing with his ponytail. She was so enticingly warm in comparison to the drafty common room. Harry rested his head against the source of her heat, unconsciously leaning into the girl's pert breasts. Penny also smelled very nice, much better than the musty old castle. She didn't seem to mind the contact and ruffled his hair. Harry looked up at her with curious emerald orbs.

"Why were you out so late, anyway?"

"Just my late rounds. Got paired up with some Hufflepuff girl. Whatcha been reading?"

"Some book on mythology. It's rather depressing to see my favorite legends reduced into mere historical facts."

Penny looked down at the book, accidentally resting her chin on Harry's temple.

"I read this one last year. An entertaining read, but don't take it to heart. The author's a rabid pureblooded supremacist that came out with the theory that the Gods were just some cult of powerful wizards that took up shack on Mount Olympus and started lording it over the Muggles. He's largely unsubstantiated. I'll find you some other books that give alternate interpretations if you're interested."

Listening to the beautiful Prefect talk convinced Harry that he had truly found his home away from home in Ravenclaw.

"I would appreciate that, thank you. This collection is even better than mine back home."

"You're very welcome. Since you mention having a library, tell me some more about yourself and I'll do the same. Neither of us seem to be all that tired now anyway."

Penny never moved her chin from its resting place. Harry felt almost as if he were being slowly absorbed into her body. It was a wonderful experience. He told her quite a bit about his home life, including the story of his being placed with abusive relatives and rescued by his grandmother, though he didn't bother implicating Dumbledore as the culprit. He described the girls and his friendship with the Malfoy family, and mentioned his love for reading and early discovery of magic. She simply listened and gave her full attention. She too had grown up with a love for books. Penny was a Muggleborn, and her father was a professor of history at Cambridge while her mother owned and operated a local bookstore. They sat up whispering until well into the morning. Running out of things to talk about, she broached one final subject.

"I'm really glad I caught you alone, Harry. There's something I wanted to tell you."

"I'm listening."

"Thank you so much for what you've done for Cho. I know you haven't even been her friend for even a full day yet, but you have done more in this short time for that poor girl's self-esteem than you could possibly ever know. She practically chatted my head off during my rounds back on the train. The Cho Chang of yesteryear would have hung her head and been too scared to even open her mouth. And the way you took up for her during the feast, even though you didn't utter a sound. The expression on your face spoke louder than words ever could."

"I don't understand why everybody dislikes her so much."

Penny sighed and looked straight into Harry's eyes.

"Deep down I think you do, Harry. The magical world is a place shrouded in secrecy and seclusion. Wizards and witches are naturally a very xenophobic and racist lot. And then Cho comes along last year as the only Oriental student in the entire school, raised mostly in her own culture and only a little bit in ours. She looked different, talked different and held different values and ideas concerning magic than the rest of the pureblooded wizards around here. They didn't understand her and so they chose to revile her instead, and the rest went along with it for the sake of conformity. I've tried to help her out in the past, but I'm several years older and have had no real authority until now. But you're the legendary Harry Potter. For you to befriend her and look out for her sends a message to everybody else. So again, thank you from the very bottom of my heart."

Harry looked very angry. He knew that Penny's analysis was very correct, having recalled both Draco and Blaise callously using racial slurs only hours ago. The thought made him boil.

"That's so horrible. Well it won't ever happen again or there'll be consequences."

"I believe you. You're a very sweet boy, handsome. Hogwarts desperately needs more people like you."

At that point, Penny leaned in and brushed her lips across the area between his upper lip and nose. She didn't wear lip gloss like Alyssa and her mouth felt like liquid fire against his fair skin. She pulled back after an instant and took aim for the area just below his mouth. In a brief moment of daring he angled his own face and captured her mouth. He instantly felt like slapping himself for his presumptuousness, fully expecting her to wrench herself away and never speak to him again. Her eyes registered complete surprise but she quickly relaxed into the kiss. Harry's confidence was bolstered and he did as his beautiful attendant had taught him, slowly massaging Penny's sides with shaky hands. She whimpered at the younger boy's touch and held him tighter. His face was as red as a beet when the moment finally ended. Penny was regarding him with a glowing smile.

"I do believe we have a misplaced Gryffindor. Awfully daring there, kiddo."

Harry averted his eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Penny. I didn't mean to..."

"Don't be, I'm sure as Hell not. You're a marvelous kisser and there's no way that was your first time either. Whoever taught you did a very good job. As much as I'd like to continue, we'd better get on up to bed now. We've got the weekend before classes start, but I still don't fancy missing breakfast in the morning. Sweet dreams, handsome."

Harry nodded warily and Penny stood up and helped him back to his feet.

"Good night, Penny. I'll see you in the morning."

She turned for the stairways leading up to her dormitory but stopped after a second and turned back.

"One last thing, Harry..."

The dandy boy looked up at her inquisitively. She winked and leaned down, brushing her lips against his again.

"Be a good boy and there will most definitely be an encore."

Harry blushed as Penny disappeared up the staircase. His day had been quite enlightening. Eleven kisses constituted a new personal record. One from each of the girls at the platform, a pair from Daphne Greengrass and Blaise Zabini during the ceremony and now three from Penny. He went to return his book to the shelf before venturing up to the first year Ravenclaw boys' dormitory. Another seven flights to climb, he thought with discontent. He loathed the idea of sharing living quarters with four other boys but nothing could be done to remedy it tonight. He would magic himself a new private room in the morning if all went according to plan.

Meanwhile, he thought about Cho and hoped she was sleeping safely in her own dormitory. Surely the other students wouldn't just let her be after a single glare from him. He wondered about the girls back at the estate, hoping that they missed him but were still in high spirits despite his absence. He envisioned Kim moving into his room, keeping his bed warm and occupied at all times. He prayed that his grandmother was still in good health. He touched his lips, still warm with Penny's sugary sweet taste, and smiled. He turned his thoughts to Draco, wondering if the pale boy had experienced a likewise eventful evening down in the Slytherin dungeons. Tomorrow would be his first day as a true Hogwarts student. He could hardly wait to see what the sunrise would bring.

(End Chapter Five)

**Author's Note: Another chapter down. I think I took up quite a bit of space for just the Sorting Ceremony, but I got several new characters introduced. On that note, please do not start harping on the fact that Rowling has confirmed Blaise as male. I really and truly do not give a shit, and it will only serve to annoy me. The popular vote went to Ravenclaw in a landslide, which pleases me as that's what I'd really wanted to do with the story to begin with. A lot of people were less than enamored with Draco's assholishness on the train. That was by design. Malfoy the Younger is not going to turn into a decent person simply as a consequence of knowing Harry, as I have often seen done very badly in other stories. He will treat Harry a lot better and as a result he may not come across entirely as insufferable as he is in canon, but he will remain the same spoiled rotten little bastard at heart.**

**As for the Harry/Penny thing near the end, don't read too much into it. He kissed her and she was surprised by how good he was at it and was momentarily taken with him. Her logical side will quickly kick in and tell her that a relationship with an eleven year old boy is plain wrong. Nothing will really develop from it for at least a year or two, if ever, aside from a particularly close friendship. After that, well, I've never actually seen a Harry/Penelope pairing done anywhere before, so it may be tempting to try at least until she graduates. We'll see. As for Daphne and Blaise, suffice to say that they had reasons for being all over Harry beyond just liking him.** **Keep past developments in mind and it shouldn't be too hard to figure out.**

**Many of you will also notice that Ron and Hermione received little mention here. That will be a trend. Harry will not be close with either in this story, and you will not see very much of them as a result. In a similar vein, there isn't really going to be a "Trio" of any sort here either. Harry will have friends all over the place, but not in any such organization as that. Next chapter will be the last before classes start and will likely feature some more interaction between Harry and Draco, along with a chance encounter with Professor Dumbledore. Anyway, hope you all enjoy and don't forget to review. Even if you can't spare the time to compose something long, just a quick note with an opinion will do nicely and be much appreciated. Remember, more reviews equates to quicker updates.**

**Now, on a less upbeat note, posted several days after the chapter itself, I'm not sure when I'll be posting again. We're in the process of moving to a new house and we might quite possibly have a hurricane bearing down on us early next week (go somewhere else, Dennis). And even after that, I have a paper due at the end of the month. Taking that all into account, it seems doubtful that I'll be able to keep to my usual posting schedule for awhile. I do promise that I will try, though.**


	7. A Knight's Resolve

_Harry blushed as Penny disappeared up the staircase. His day had been quite enlightening. Eleven kisses, a new personal record. One from each of the girls at the plaftorm, a pair from Daphne Greengrass and Blaise Zabini during the ceremony and now three from Penny. He went to return his book to the shelf before venturing up to the first year Ravenclaw boys' dormitory. Another seven flights to climb, he thought with discontent. He loathed the idea of sharing living quarters with four other boys but nothing could be done to remedy it tonight. He would magic himself a new private room in the morning if all went according to plan._

_Meanwhile, he thought about Cho and hoped she was sleeping safely in her own dormitory. Surely the other students wouldn't just let her be after a single glare from him. He wondered about the girls back at the estate, hoping that they missed him but were still in high spirits despite his absence. He envisioned Kim moving into his room, keeping his bed warm and occupied at all times. He prayed that his grandmother was still in good health. He touched his lips, still warm with Penny's sweet taste, and smiled. He turned his thoughts to Draco, wondering if the pale boy had experienced a likewise eventful evening down in the Slytherin dungeons. Tomorrow would be his first day as a true Hogwarts student. He could hardly wait to see what the sunrise would bring._

**Chapter Six: Reconciliation – A Young Knight's Vow**

Disclaimer: If you've seen it before, it belongs to J.K. Rowling. Otherwise, it's mine. Naturally, I'm making no money off this. Am I the only one that finds these things to be extremely repetitive and pointless?

* * *

The sun had not yet risen when Harry awoke in his four-poster, with its blue sheets and bronze trappings. The large bed thankfully had a privacy screen. He would never have been able to sleep well knowing that a bunch of filthy stinking boys could see him. Both of the frail boy's arms were a bit numb as a result of the load that he had carried up the stairs with him, but his drowsy condition caused him to attribute the sensation to a simple consequence of it being so early. Besides, the warm body clinging almost desperately to his bare torso proved a more interesting subject for Harry to ponder. Definitely female, with creamy Oriental skin and black hair that shone in the moonlight. He had countless times before shared his bed with such a girl and instinctively whispered her name. 

"...Kim..."

She looked up sleepily, as her eyes widened with surprise.

"Merlin, Harry. I can't believe you brought me up here. We could both get into so much trouble for this."

Harry smiled down at her and ran his fingers possessively through her soft, thick hair. The entire scene here was different than in the past. For starters, his bed was supposed to be much bigger and softer than this, and he wasn't in his usual silk pajamas. He was instead clad only in his boxer shorts, the rest of his clothes from the previous day unceremoniously strewn about in a pile on the floor, upon which Xiren was sleeping. Regardless, it was surely Kim with him. No one else would dare sleep in bed with him. He felt totally safe in this strange place with her arms wrapped protectively around his body, though he wasn't sure what she was afraid of. He did his best to reassure her.

"Don't worry, big sister. Grandma won't be angry. She knows I sometimes can't sleep properly without you. I don't know where we are, but I'm glad you're with me."

It didn't work. She appeared to be even more shocked.

"Harry, you're having delusions. First, we're apparently in your dormitory at Hogwarts. I've never even met your grandmother, and I'm not your older sister. It's me, Cho."

Harry repeated the name.

"...Cho. Now I remember..."

And he did recall the events of just past midnight, after Penny had left him alone in the common room. He had returned his book to its proper place on the shelf and turned to go to bed when he noticed Cho sleeping on a secluded sofa, shivering in the cold autumn night air that drafted into Ravenclaw Tower. He didn't know why she wasn't up in her dormitory, but saw red due to the face that hostile roommates likely had something to due with it. He remembered taking off his cape and draping it over her before attempting to storm up into the second year girls' bedroom and hex the occupants into jelly, only to be thwarted by the charmed staircase. He had been left with no choice but to swallow his anger for the time being and somehow keep Cho from catching cold.

He could have just magically warmed his cape and left her to rest, but decided instead to let her stay with him. He carried the small girl in his arms and loudly summoned her trunk from upstairs, levitating it in front of them with his wand. Though she was light, Harry was physically weak due to his sedentary habits and had experienced great difficulty in getting her up all those flights of stairs, and was sore and exhausted by the end of the trip. He placed her gently on the only empty bed in the room and stripped off his outer garments before collapsing and falling instantly asleep. Well, he stood by what he had done and was unafraid of any consequences. He welcomed any attempt at being disciplined, so that he might be able to give his Head of House a piece of his mind for allowing this bullying to ever take place.

"I can't fathom the nerve of those people. I warned them to leave you alone. I'll just have to be more direct next time. The filthy varlets apparently can't learn without being told."

"Really Harry, it's okay. I have you now, and that's enough. They don't matter at all to me. Please don't start a row over it."

Harry wasn't the most perceptive young wizard alive, but had a certain sensitivity for a girl's feelings. He knew that she was deliberately trying to hide her emotional pain so as not to be a burden to him, but he would have absolutely none of it.

"You're not being truthful. It does hurt you, I can hear it in your voice. But I'll respect your wishes under one condition. If I can't force them to behave, then you can't live with them or out in the common room. You have to stay with me from now on and be happy."

Cho shook her head.

"The school will never allow a girl to live in a boys' dormitory. Not even for the famous Harry Potter."

"I know that, but I'm not staying in this communal dump either. I'll create us a private suite that we can live in together. My transfiguration skills are easily up to the task."

"Su Li told me all about the paddle boat you made last night from one of the school launches during the Sorting Ceremony. I wish I had been there to see it."

"Then we'll go see it together this morning. I made the charm permanent, so it should stick unless one of the teachers removed it. And even if they did I'll build another just for you. Now let's go do our morning toilets. I want to be clean and dressed before these grotesque males wake up and defile us with their presence."

She giggled again his chest, both comfortable enough with one another to be bothered by their closeness. Not that Harry ever took any issue with being held by a pretty girl.

"You're silly, you know. Fine, let's go."

Harry and Cho strolled into the downstairs restroom together and prepared for the day. The former complained about the lack of bath facilities in the room, never having taken a shower in his life. He found the high water pressure to be unbearable and swore never to repeat the procedure, declaiming that his new room would have an even bigger and more ornate tub than the one in his quarters at home. Cho did his hair for him, showing skills that rivaled those of his attendants. She explained that young girls were trained in the domestic arts from an early age in her culture, including arranging hair. Instead of his usual straight ponytail, Cho meticulously worked his black waterfall into an ornate Chinese braid. He then transfigured a vibrant sprig of pure white hibiscus from some random article near the sink and had her insert a flower at just the right point on his head.

Once Cho was finished taking care of him, Harry showed that his own proficiency in the art was not lacking. He was determined to make her look beautiful and show her that she wasn't at all ugly like she had been led to believe. Her features would bloom on their own soon enough, but needed just a little bit of help to bring out their radiance now. Her hair was much more attractive when left to flow on its own, unlike his own crude mop, so he only brushed it into a lustrous sheen. He then transfigured a box of rose-nitric powder and a stick of fragrant rouge, with which he brought out her pretty face and accentuated her slightly pouty lips. He had entreated Cho to keep her almond eyes closed as he did his magic, so that she would be surprised by the outcome. She gasped and tackled him in a fierce hug upon seeing herself in the mirror, tears of gratitude rolling down her cheeks. Harry only had a single sentence to utter in response.

"See, I wasn't teasing at all when I said that you were beautiful."

He received a sloppy kiss on the cheek as his answer. That brought his count up to six so far just at Hogwarts. He lazily washed the rouge stain from his fair skin with a smile and returned to the dormitory to get dressed. He was somewhat able to help himself this time around, though Cho was there to assist where needed. He was a bit disheartened to hear that he was required to wear the drab Hogwarts school uniform at all times outside of Ravenclaw Tower, but brightened upon realizing that he could now wear his jewelry purchased from Diagon Alley. He put on a fresh set of school robes and his cape, disturbing his sleeping kitten in the process, and then donned his bejeweled bracers and belt. His hair was arranged in such a way that the coronet would have ruined the effect. The clear stones transformed into glimmering blue sapphires in accordance with the Ravenclaw house colors.

Cho was long since ready herself by the time that Harry finished his preening and the two decided to sit in the common room until breakfast. Some of the other boys were already awake and chattering when the pair emerged from behind the privacy screen of Harry's four-poster. A husky boy that he vaguely recalled as Antoine Goldfinger or something hailed him as he passed.

"You must be the Boy-Who-Lived. Merlin, taking a girl to bed on your first night here. That's got to be some sort of record. Name's Anthony Goldstien, by the way. I'm from Birmingham. Pleasure to meet you."

Feeling no particular inclination to be rude to the boy, he nodded with a forced grin.

"Likewise, though I'm quite sure you already know my name. My friend here is Cho Chang. She's a second year."

Cho also flashed a discreet smile, visibly tense at being a lone girl in the middle of a room full of waking boys. Harry extricated her quickly, leading her downstairs before he could be drawn into some pointless discussion himself. It was about a quarter past six in the morning and yet a few students were already awake and lounging about the common room. Penny was among them, and bade him sit down on a sofa next to her, leaving a space for Cho on his other side. He blushed despite himself upon feeling the fifth year Prefect's body brushing up against his again as she regarded him with a wry smile.

"Morning, handsome. Nice jewelry, it looks good on you."

"Thank you. I picked it out myself. Did you sleep okay last night, Penny?"

"Could have been better, but I'll survive. Looks like you rested well, though. A warm pillow like that will always do the trick."

Harry's blush deepened, knowing that she was referring to Cho sharing his bed.

"Well that's...I can explain everything...I just..."

Penny apparently found his flustered response endearing, as she playfully ruffled his braided hair and smiled.

"Hey, relax. I'm not trying to grill you or anything. But I was right. You really are a misplaced Gryffindor, breaking such a huge rule on your first night here like that. But it is kinda curious. I thought I saw Cho going up to bed before I went on patrol, and the only way for her to have gotten into your dormitory is for you to have brought her there."

He didn't really like being compared to a Gryffindor, but was willing to tolerate it from her. Cho glanced over at the two, silently pleading with Harry not to tell Penny what had happened. He reluctantly complied, not understanding the reasoning behind doing so.

"She was cold and having trouble sleeping and I felt a little homesick and lonely. We just scratched one another's backs, that's all. I came across her reading on one of the chairs near where I returned that book last night and helped her into my dormitory where we both quickly fell asleep."

Harry didn't feel good about lying to Penny, and she knew that he wasn't being completely truthful judging from the expression on her face. She sent a frigid glare to a younger curly redheaded witch sitting at a distant table before turning back to Harry.

"That's good to hear. It's getting rather crowded in here. Let's mosey on over and grab something to eat before the masses show up in the Great Hall."

That was agreeable to Harry and so he accompanied the older girl with Cho tailing behind. The trip from Ravenclaw Tower to the Great Hall was much easier on Harry's constitution than the first, as the entire walk was downstairs. Only a smattering of younger years were seated at the four tables at the time, the excitement of being at Hogwarts too much to allow them proper rest. The older students tended to place a higher value on their sleep. The hot breakfast had yet to be served, but there was an assortment of continental foods ready to eat, including various muffins and fruits, along with cereal and oatmeal. The selection was much more to Harry's liking than the previous night's banquet and he loaded up a heaping plate, eating vigorously but always with proper manners. He found himself comfortably sandwiched between his two female companions and enjoyed his morning meal immensely.

Soon enough, the rest of the school starting pouring into the Great Hall for breakfast and Harry found his general area occupied by some of the girls in his own year. Among them was the Chinese girl who had been tripped by Nott during the Sorting Ceremony, as well as Padma Patil, the Ravenclaw half of that pair of cute Indian twins. There were others as well, and Harry was for all intents and purposes holding court. A blonde girl named Lisa Turpin seemed to have some sort of obsession with Harry and constantly asked to refill his goblet or retrieve something for him to eat. He caught Draco's eye at the Slytherin Table and the young aristocrat shook his head, nastily mouthing something that appeared to be the word "fangirl." Harry enjoyed the attention and took it in stride.

After some time of chatting about various subjects, a flurry of owls announced the arrival of the morning post. Harry himself received several packages, the first coming from his own owl, Disenchantment. She brought a large parcel from his grandmother along with a letter. The old lady had sent some of his favorite sweets from home including homemade pies and his ultimate guilty pleasure, a large tin of chocolate covered espresso beans, along with several exotic fruits freshly picked from the estate's gardens and orchards. The letter again exhorted him to apply himself at school and promised care packages and letters each week. He sent the beautiful messenger to the school Owlery to rest before returning back to Surrey.

She hadn't been gone for long when a majestic eagle owl that he recognized as belonging to the Malfoys arrived bearing its own small supply of sweets and cakes and another letter. Draco was sifting through a larger parcel from his parents across the Great Hall. The succinct note was from Lucius, wishing the young wizard luck in his studies and reminding him not to trust Dumbledore and to inform him through Draco of any meddling on the old man's part. A final owl came from Gringotts with a large bundle of papers outlining all of the assets and properties that were now in Harry's control due to his coming to the lordship of his father's ancestral line.

"Merlin, Harry. There's such a thing as too many sweets, you know."

Harry grinned and glanced over at Cho, who was poring over his opened packages. Some of the third and fourth year boys that had once treated her with open dislike were now favoring her wit appreciative looks, as if some veil had just been lifted from their eyes. She pointedly ignored all of them. Harry felt a twinge of happiness at the fact. Cho was far too beautiful and pure for cretins of that sort.

"Nonsense, my sweet tooth is legendary. But it is a bit much, so help yourself."

"I will, if only to stop you from pigging it all down on your own."

She grabbed a small peach pie from the bundle sent by the old lady and ate it daintily. Harry likewise invited the other girls to share in his newfound confectionery wealth before digging into his espresso beans. Some did so, and others declined. Many students around the Ravenclaw Table were discussing the latest headline in _The Daily Prophet_. Somebody had apparently tried to break into Gringotts the previous evening. Harry considered a matter as worldly as a petty theft attempt to be beneath his interest and dismissed it offhand. Meanwhile, Professor Flitwick, the small wizard from the previous evening and Harry's Head of House, was handing out course timetables for the upcoming term. He was all smiles upon reaching the young wizard's position.

"Good morning, Mister Potter! It's a privilege to have you in my house. I always said that your mother should have been a Ravenclaw. And I hear that you've inherited her gift for my discipline as well. Absolutely wonderful! I'll see you in Charms next week."

Harry smiled and nodded, taking his schedule from the diminutive Charms master. Knowing the general Hogwarts curriculum as a result of studying his mother's old textbooks, he wasn't surprised by anything. As promised, he was enrolled at the second year level in both Charms and Transfiguration. For some reason, he also had Potions with the Gryffindors and Slytherins instead of with his own house. Having no further business or desire to remain in the crowded and noisy cafeteria, Harry turned to Cho.

"If you're finished eating, let's go and take a look at that boat like I promised. Even I couldn't really admire it out in the dark last night when I made it. We'll just need to drop my parcels off in the dormitory first."

Cho voiced no disagreement and rose in time with Harry, but was stopped by a gentle hand on her wrist.

"Sorry to rain on the parade but I kinda need to borrow you for awhile, Cho. It's important. Harry, do me a favor and take her after lunch or something. Maybe you can look around the castle a bit until then. I'd really appreciate it."

Harry was a bit annoyed but didn't argue with Penny's request. He nodded and began taking up his packages. Lisa Turpin leapt out of her seat as he reached for the bundle of manuscripts from Gringotts.

"That's a lot to carry, Mister Potter. Please let me take some of it for you."

Harry chuckled indulgently, an unconscious imitation of Lucius Malfoy that was in no way better than his first. For some reason, he rather liked the idea of being called "Mister Potter" by one of his classmates, though propriety demanded that he not allow it to become a habit.

"If you insist. Here, grab the big one from my grandma. And just call me Harry."

Harry's first declared fangirl of what would surely become many positively beamed as if Christmas had come four months early, eagerly removing the large hamper full of fruits and sweets from Harry's arms. Cho shot Lisa an annoyed look as the girl led her misplaced idol from the Great Hall. Penny just gripped his hand with murmured thanks. He enjoyed the feel of the pretty girl's warm skin touching his for the short time that it lasted. He quickly regretted allowing Lisa to accompany him.

"Wow, Harry Potter in the flesh. I've always loved hearing all the stories about you and now you're in my year at Hogwarts. Both of my parents were Ravenclaws anyway, but I practically begged the hat to place me here after you were. You're even more dashing than I had imagined. You're really perfect in every way."

All of that came out in a span of less than ten seconds. While Harry had no problem with people singing his praises, this was a bit over the top even by his standards. He rolled his eyes dramatically, but didn't see the person advancing on him as a result. Harry collided head on with another boy, whose half-eaten Pumpkin Pasty smeared all over the front of his tailored silk robes. He looked over with fire in his eyes. It was Roland Weasley.

"Watch where the bloody Hell you're going, Roland! You just got your sodding Pumpkin Pasties all over my brand new robes!"

"Blimey...sorry about that, mate. My name's Ronald though. I came to your birthday a few years back. Don't tell me you've forgotten."

But Harry was paying no mind. As soon as he had said "Pumpkin Pasties," the great stone gargoyle in the corridor near them leapt aside, revealing a passageway. Curiosity piqued, he decided to come back later and explore. Harry waved a dismissive hand.

"I don't recall nor do I care what your name is. Just don't be such a klutz from now on. Let's get a moving, Lisa. My arms are getting rather tired from carrying this load."

Harry drew his bamboo wand and lazily performed a Cleaning Charm on his robes before stalking off angrily, leaving Ronald behind gaping like an idiot. He and Lisa reached Ravenclaw Tower quickly enough. He entrusted his snacks to one of the boys to take upstairs and place on his bed, keeping the papers from the bank himself. He managed to lose Lisa Turpin after a bit of effort and returned to the corridor with the gargoyle.

"Pumpkin Pasties."

The gargoyle leapt aside again, while Harry shook his head at the password. Surely there were much more refined words that could be used than the name of some sweet pastry. A spiral staircase led to an open door, which Harry passed through into a magnificent circular office. The room was most peculiar, with silver instruments strewn about on table emitting smoke and several portraits talking enthusiastically to one another. He immediately took notice of the resplendent phoenix perched behind the door. Harry walked over to stroke the magnificent bird's plumage and was rewarded with a soft trill that filled him with emotion.

"It would appear that Fawkes has taken quite a liking to you, Harry."

Harry whirled around in a fright. Albus Dumbledore was now sitting behind a desk that Harry was sure had been unoccupied when he entered the room, regarding the young wizard with his usual twinkling smile. He was every bit as dumbstruck by the great archmage as he had been upon first meeting him at Gringotts.

"Professor Dumbledore, sir. I apologize for intruding. I didn't know that this was your office. I hope I haven't interrupted anything."

Dumbledore didn't seem the least bit surprised to see the young wizard in his office, as if he had been watching the entire episode with Ron earlier and fully expected Harry to make a return visit.

"Not at all, my boy. In fact, I had hoped to invite you here for a chat soon regardless. There seem to be a few unfortunate issues between us that I would much like to see reconciled. Please be seated and feel free to help yourself to a Sherbet Lemon."

Harry sat down across from the headmaster and did indeed reach into the old man's candy dish. He just couldn't help but feel a bit guilty for having attacked his headmaster that afternoon. He still felt that his actions had been justified, but felt compelled to apologize. He locked eyes with Dumbledore despite knowing fully well from Lucius through Draco that he was a powerful Legilimens. Harry had nothing to hide.

"I guess I owe you another apology, sir. I should never have behaved the way I did at the inheritance hearing. I lost my temper and acted without thinking. I'm thoroughly ashamed at forgetting my breeding like that and I hope you can somehow forgive me."

Harry felt a reassuring caress within his mind, though he couldn't be sure whether it came from the headmaster himself or from his phoenix familiar, which was now perched on the young wizard's shoulder and singing softly. Far from being indignant, Dumbledore appeared to be both apologetic and pleased at the same time.

"Consider it forgotten. You did no wrong that afternoon. It is I who should be apologizing to you. I foolishly allowed myself to be baited into acting in a threatening manner towards your grandmother, at which point you fought to protect her. A man of my age and experience has no excuse for such immature and reprehensible conduct. I certainly deserved far worse punishment than a face full of ink and a good hexing. Please do not feel guilty..."

Harry said nothing in response, and the headmaster continued.

"...As a matter of fact, I would have been quite disappointed had you not made any attempt to defend her. You acted with bravery and nobility, for which your parents would have been very proud. Furthermore, you have shown great compassion and magnanimity in feeling considerable shame and offering an apology for taking action against one who had wronged you. For that I am very pleased with you as well."

Harry brightened a bit at the obviously heartfelt praise, but it didn't last long. His gentle face turned uncharacteristically serious as he prepared to ask about something that had been lingering in the back of his mind. It was an issue that very much defined him and required an answer.

"Thank you, that means a lot to me. But there's something I need to ask you about."

Dumbledore's expression turned grave as well, as the old man anticipated his question.

"Go right ahead, Harry. I will answer your query to the best of my ability."

"Do tell me where have those robes of yours made. They're absolutely marvelous. I simply must have a set."

Shock registered in the headmaster's wizened face for a moment, and then his eyes began twinkling even more madly than ever before. He laughed loudly and had to brace himself against his desk. Several of the portraits chuckled along with him, and even Fawkes seemed amused. Harry didn't understand at all. It was a serious issue. Dumbledore leaned across his desk conspiratorially and whispered into Harry's ear.

"That, dear boy, is among my most jealously guarded secrets. But I will confide in you. Simply ask for the Dumbledore Set upon your next visit to Madam Malkin's."

Harry smiled gratefully. He decided to ask one more question that had popped into his head while revisiting that humiliating episode at the bank in Diagon Alley.

"Thank you, sir. I appreciate it. Now, there's just one more thing. When you argued with grandma, she mentioned some sort of Prophecy. I tried to ask her about it later, but she said that I was still too young to hear it. I think she only raised the issue to get a rise out of you, really. But she did say that it had something to do with the reason my parents died. I usually don't argue with grandma's decisions, but I think I deserve to hear this."

Harry had raised the issue with the old lady upon returning home from Malfoy Manor and it had been deflected. The headmaster's expression faltered yet again. Harry thought that the old man had just hit the sour portion of one of his lemon candies.

"You do indeed have the right, Harry. I will tell you if you are determined to know. But consider this first. Knowing the details of the Prophecy will irrevocably shatter what precious little childhood you have left to enjoy. Even for the most fortunate of us, those irreplaceable years vanish far too quickly. And you already have the burden of fame and celebrity to bear. Heed this old man's advice and do not compound that with the weight of your destiny, for it is indeed great. Many years ago, I too faced a similar situation..."

But Albus Dumbledore trailed off at that point instead of sharing the painful story of his own past. Harry could feel a strong sense of empathy with the elderly sage. He looked at his headmaster with his own eyes and momentarily put aside the harsh criticism of the esteemed wizard that he had so often heard recently from the likes of his grandmother and the Malfoy family. He didn't see the manipulative old coot that they railed against. Dumbledore appeared to be and trying his best to protect him from some terrible fate that even Harry himself didn't feel ready to face out of a genuine concern for his well being.

"I understand, headmaster. I'll let it go for now. Your phoenix is beautiful, by the way."

The headmaster nodded his agreement with a smile, the twinkle again returning to his cerulean eyes. The two seemed to have reached an unspoken agreement to speak no more of the Prophecy, though Harry still turned the matter over in his head.

"Fawkes is a most resplendent creature. How fortunate you are to see him today, at the very zenith of his regenerative cycle. He is typically reticent with my guests, though. You are indeed a very special young wizard, Harry. I did put aside a moment this morning to admire your pontoon boat. A bit presumptuous perhaps, but still a phenomenal feat of transfiguration for one so young. Professor McGonagall was in a state of total disbelief when Hagrid showed it to her. I think it best that simply refrain from discussing how exactly where attained the requisite skill before ever setting foot onto the grounds. Needless to say, however, the teaching staff here harbors very high hopes for you."

Harry knew better than to mention his disdain for certain subjects to the headmaster. Again, he had the gut feeling that the old man knew how he had gained his magical proficiency.

"I'll do my best to live up to them."

"I sincerely hope that you...ah, Severus. I had nearly forgotten our scheduled meeting. How very rude of me. Harry, I'm sorely afraid that we'll have to adjourn our impromptu discussionuntil a later date. This place is always so hectic right around the start of term. Off you trot, my boy."

"Very well. I've enjoyed getting to know you a little better, sir."

Harry spared a glance at the Potions master standing in the doorway as he departed. The ugly little man sneered hatefully at him, as if he were something particularly repugnant beneath his shoe. Harry would have hexed Snape if not for Dumbledore's presence. As it was, he simply strode out of the headmaster's office, wordlessly casting a Trip Jinx halfway down the staircase. Severus Snape would visit the Hospital Wing with a nasty concussion half an hour later.

* * *

Meanwhile, Harry restlessly strolled about the Hogwarts corridors. The Prophecy was weighing heavily on his mind. He wished he had gotten the details out of the headmaster, but it was obvious even to the naive dandy that the old man was extremely reluctant to divulge them. Upon actually speaking to him, he had taken an immediate liking to Dumbledore. They were cousins in eccentricity, as it were. Both were potentially very powerful and intelligent, and both were largely misunderstood by the mundane hordes due to their unorthodox personalities. Harry was more of a foolish romantic while Albus was just odd. 

He had first tried to sit down in the Ravenclaw common room to read, or at least to distract himself with Cho or Penny. However, both of them were still out on whatever business the Prefect had ferried the Chinese girl away for. Besides, not even a good book could whisk his mind away from his troubles this time. He really needed to talk to somebody. He didn't even know where to look for Draco, knowing only that the Slytherin common room was located somewhere in the castle's extensive dungeons. Not that the young aristocrat's harsh tongue and sarcastic comments would do Harry much good at the moment anyway, but at least he was somebody.

He eventually reached what appeared to be a fencing room. There were cobwebs marring the corners, indicating that the facility hadn't been used in some time. A few inanimate dummies stood about here and there, and a rack filled with silver epees and rapiers emblazoned with the Hogwarts crest leaned against a far wall. Harry felt an odd desire to practice with them, never having held a sword in his entire life. He removed his outer robes and took up a long rapier, standing in the middle of the room and holding it in front of him in one of those ridiculous stances that he had read about. As he made a few surprisingly fluid swings with the blade, the whole Prophecy started making sense to him.

His parents had been slain by the Dark Lord Voldemort. That much his grandmother had told him long ago. And she had also told him that the Prophecy pertained to the circumstances of her death, which meant that it concerned the evil wizard as well. Harry had supposedly killed Voldemort due to a freak accident over a decade ago. But the Prophecy had yet to be fulfilled, so the Dark Lord could not truly be dead. Which meant that he was out there somewhere and would one day return. Harry would surely be first on his list of targets for having foiled his first rising, and he and his grandmother would both be in grave danger, as would the girls and everybody else that he cared for. He wouldn't allow them to be hurt, ever.

He loathed fighting and the idea of learning the Dark Arts in order to do so revolted him. And yet there was likely no choice. Harry let out a scream and struck one of the dummies with the rapier, imagining it to be some hideous bogeyman that he equated to Voldemort inside his mind. It was apparently charmed to defend itself when threatened, as it came to life and advanced on Harry brandishing a blunted epee. Harry normally would have turned tail and run but felt inclined to work off his anger now. And so the duel began. He fought aggressively and nearly overwhelmed the dummy with frenzied strokes at the start, but was forced onto the defensive as the animated sparring partner adapted to his style and countered. He regained his own bearings and battled back to a draw, finally sidestepping a fierce thrust and disarming the dummy with a flick of his wrist before stabbing it in the torso.

It was a short exercise, but he was sweating and panting like he had just run a marathon at the end. But his anger was expended, replaced by a grim recognition that hard times would come in the future, and that he had to prepare. He allowed himself a brief rest, cleaning and drying his clothes and body with a few quick charms, and then took his robes and left. Harry never noticed the man that had entered just as he stepped forward and attacked the dormant dummy, watching the entire duel approvingly. Harry didn't sleep well that night, finally dozing off on a sofa in his common room at a quarter past two in the morning.

* * *

Harry had never bothered much with the game of chess, feeling it to be a stereotyped venture for those fools that moonlighted as intellectuals but couldn't quite make the cut. That said, he had easily won the few games that he had played in the past with the girls at home. None of them had any talent for it at all, and provided with him nothing remotely resembling a challenge. And now he was being decimated by Daphne Greengrass. Harry didn't feel up to breakfast on the last morning before classes, but had been practically dragged down to the Slytherin common room by Draco and company after lunch. 

"Check."

Harry moved his king out of her bishop's path. It was apparently another blunder, as Draco shook his head from his observing position. Daphne and Blaise hadn't been nearly as flirtatious with him this afternoon as they had been before the Sorting Ceremony. Not that it bothered him, as he was more interested in Penny at the moment. She too had been somewhat cautious with him since that stolen kiss, but always friendly and helpful. Draco had probably put his two attractive housemates up to trying to literally seduce him into the serpent's den. It hadn't worked, and they had subsequently dropped the act. They were still cordial with him though, and seemed interested in being friends.

"Check."

"Bloody Hell."

He was being trapped into a corner without very much space to maneuver. Harry still had far more pieces on the board than Daphne, but his field position was hopeless. He again moved his king into a tight spot instead of prudently sacrificing a knight to defend him. There had been fireworks in Ravenclaw the previous day. Penny's venture concerning Cho had been to extract the full story behind her being stranded on the sofa. The latter cracked without Harry to back her up and the older girl went to Professor Flitwick, who summoned Cho's female yearmates into his office. According to the story floating around the common room, he could be heard raging at them from halfway down the Charms corridor. Marietta Edgecombe and two other terrified girls lost a hundred house points apiece and received three nights of detention per week with Mister Filch until Yule. Flitwick had some dwarven blood in him and suffered his share of taunts and abuse while in school as a result, and so this bullying had struck a very raw nerve with the normally friendly little wizard. Nobody had sent Cho Chang so much as a cross look since.

"Checkmate."

A sweeping move by Daphne's queen completed the rout, as she spoke the fatal words with mocking cheerfulness. Harry wasn't bothered by the loss and showed enough grace to shake her hand in congratulations and smile sheepishly.

"Well, that was humiliating."

Blaise offered some reassurance from her seat in a nearby chair.

"You show some promise, but you can only learn through practice and observation."

"Well, you played very well regardless."

A new voice drawled silkily.

"Indeed she did. A most excellent display of skill, Miss Greengrass."

All of the Slytherin first years turned to the portrait hole, from whence the compliment had come. Lucius Malfoy stood just inside the threshold with a cold expression on his face. Harry eventually looked over in his direction as well. Draco hurriedly stood to greet his father while the rest looked on respectfully.

"Father. A pleasure to see you this afternoon. I wasn't aware that you were visiting."

"And you as well, Dragon. The preliminary meeting of the Board of Governors has just concluded, and I decided that I might descend into these familiar dungeons to call upon my heir and his young friends. Draco, I have been informed that the Sorting Hat sent you to Slytherin before even touching down on your head. Such a tale will surely be retold when the next heir of Malfoy steps into these halls. You have made your family proud."

Draco bowed with a proud flush on his pale face.

"Thank you, father."

Lucius nodded and gazed over at Harry.

"Well met, Harry. It pleases me greatly that Draco has seen fit to regard my wishes and invite you down into our common room. While I will admit that I had hoped for you to be placed here in Slytherin alongside my son, Ravenclaw is still a worthy house and clearly the most suitable alternative for a young wizard of your fine breeding. Our esteemed headmaster has seen fit to feature your transfigured paddle boat during the Board of Governors' perfunctory sweep of the grounds, a most impressive bit of spellwork that has summarily awed several notables within magical society. I was of course aware of your considerable talents to begin with, though I do admire your taste. You will almost certainly excel here at Hogwarts and beyond."

"Thank you, Mister Malfoy."

"On a less positive note, I must express my most extreme disappointment with all of you. I stood unnoticed in the portrait hole observing that chess match between Mister Potter and Miss Greengrass for over a quarter of an hour. Not a single one of you so much as ventured a glance in my direction. You are Slytherins. You must be acutely aware of your surroundings at all times. Those outside of these dungeons distrust and despise us on sheer principle. Our enemies are everywhere. Draco, you at least should know better. Professor Snape will no doubt impart similar lessons upon you in the future. You would all do well to heed his words and remember what I have impressed upon you just now."

Draco cast his eyes downward as the other Slytherins murmured acquiescence. Harry said nothing, simply looking at Lucius Malfoy. The aristocrat strode fluidly across the room and stopped expectantly next to Daphne's seat. She stood up with a blush and offered the chair to the handsome older wizard, who sat down without so much as a nod of thanks. Blaise stood at the same time as Daphne.

"Can we offer you some refreshment, Mister Malfoy?"

"That will not be necessary, Miss Zabini. There is an important lesson to be learned from this chess match. Despite having a substantial numerical advantage, Mister Potter was soundly defeated. The reason for this lies in the moral scruples of the two respective players. Miss Greengrass showed a willingness to sacrifice her underlings when necessary in order to improve her overall position whereas Mister Potter placed a far higher value upon their lives. Such a strategy would likely have led him to an overwhelming victory against a lesser skilled opponent but doomed him to bitter defeat against one able to make proper decisions. A true Slytherin must be able to gauge the value of his or her various resources and utilize them accordingly."

Harry felt like an outsider in this lecture but paid attention regardless. He couldn't help but be impressed with Lucius Malfoy's ability to command the attention and respect of his audience. Every student present literally hung on to his every word.

"Harry, a colleague of mine informs me that you possess considerable potential with the rapier. He happened to observe you yesterday morning as you practiced in the abandoned fencing classroom."

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"I didn't see anybody watching me. I was only playing around, though. I have no training or skill or anything. That was the first time I'd even held a sword. Anybody with the slightest bit of talent would make a fool of me."

Lucius nodded sternly, but with a faint glimmer of pride in his eyes.

"And yet you managed to overcome a sparring dummy that was charmed to fight at the level of a third year apprentice. There can be no denying the fact that you are a naturally gifted swordsman, Mister Potter. We Malfoys have long cherished and cultivated the noble art of the fence. I can proudly state that I was the ranking swordsman in this school during my Hogwarts years. Fencing was offered here as a course of study during that time. I dutifully dedicate one afternoon per week to my training even now. It is most unfortunate that the program was abandoned following the retirement of my instructor. More so that most young purebloods have since abandoned more refined sporting pursuits in favor of such trivial games as Quidditch. And further still that my own son stands among them."

Harry couldn't say a word to that. He felt bad about upstaging Draco in front of his father and hoped that the pale boy wouldn't resent him for it. Draco just glanced at him for a moment and then cast his gray eyes towards Lucius, who seemed to be waiting impatiently for an answer.

"If you wish it, father, I will certainly make a greater endeavor to learn swordsmanship."

Lucius smiled sardonically and nodded.

"That is exactly what I wish, Dragon. A gift such as Harry's must of course be nurtured. And you are a Malfoy. I have no doubt that you have every bit as much potential as he does. Further, your mother has postulated that Harry must find some sort of physical outlet and improve his stamina so that another unfortunate incident similar to the one that followed his inheritance ceremony does not take place in the future. In exchange, I will consent to your wishes to go out for the Slytherin Quidditch team next year, despite my own abhorrence for the sport. While my obligations at the Ministry of Magic and elsewhere prohibit me from conducting your training personally, you may rest assured that I will spare no expense in procuring a private instructor of the highest quality for you boys. And speaking of which, I must be off to the Wizengamot. I will be fashionably late as it stands."

Draco stood up immediately.

"Please allow me to walk you to the gates, father."

"Do not trouble yourself, son. I would much rather you stay here with your friends. Remember, I expect results from you at Hogwarts. Your will score high in all of your subjects or else you will suffer my most extreme displeasure. And mind that you pursue your extracurricular studies as I have instructed you. I will test your progress during the Yule Holidays and I shall know if you have been slacking off. You and Harry may both expect regular parcels from the manor."

Lucius sent his son a pointed look, and his hardened eyes slid over to Harry. Both boys nodded respectfully to the aristocrat and Lucius strode out through the portrait hole, his cane knocking rhythmically against the floor. Harry turned to his friend.

"Sorry about that, Draco. I didn't mean..."

"Forget about it, Potter. All it does is give me another avenue to please him. Besides, I ought to thank you. I've been thinking about how to talk him into allowing me to play Quidditch for a good while now, and he won't go back on his word once given."

Harry smiled and ended up in another chess game, this time with Theodore Nott. He got trounced almost as badly as he had against Daphne. It really just wasn't his game.

* * *

Late that evening, Harry levitated all of his possessions and walked into a previously empty storage room in a secluded corner of the Ravenclaw common room. After strenuous hours of spellwork he had enlarged and transformed the dusty stone enclave into a perfect copy of his sleeping quarters at his grandmother's estate. Penny had helped with the Enlargement Charms to a degree, as she had worked with them a bit more extensively than Harry himself had. She provided pointers with theory as he did the application. In the end, he was pleased with his work. Now all that was missing was his future roommate. Cho was still busy packing her belongings. 

It hadn't been difficult cajoling Professor Flitwick into breaking protocol by allowing them live together. Harry was already a favorite with the majority of the staff due to his outstanding magical potential and hero status, and he was also the son of one of this particular teacher's most cherished students. He was also understanding of her reluctance to remain living in her previous room. And they were relatively young, being eleven and twelve respectively. Some of the first year boys were rather chagrined at the fact that Harry was effectively ditching them, but that was of little importance to him. He was tired from all of the magic he had cast in creating the room and plopped immediately down onto his comfortable king sized bed, every single crease and lump identical to the original in Surrey. The door remained unlocked for Cho as Harry fell asleep. Classes would commence in the morning, and with them the full Hogwarts experience.

(End Chapter Six)

**Author's Note: A little late, I know, but I've had some difficulty getting back into my regular schedule following Hurricane Dennis. I've been doing some thinking regarding shipping in this story, and I've come up with a few ideas to throw out.**

**Harry/Penny: I like this one personally. They seem to interact well together and the pairing has never been written before to the best of my knowledge. Also, I just love the idea of having Harry steal away Percy's canonical love interest. Damned Ministry sod.**

**Harry/Fleur: I believe that this pairing would work well for this fic. His aristocratic refinement and natural handsomeness would attract a girl like Fleur Delacour. I think their personalities would mesh quite nicely. I can just imagine them sitting up at the Champions' Table during the Yule Ball running down the Hogwarts decor together. If I decide not to go Harry/Penny or to end it after she graduates, I may well go here.**

**Harry/Cho: I'm rather reluctant to do this one, as I'm shooting for more of a brother/sister sort of relationship between the two in this story. However, such a thing could possibly develop into romance, I suppose. Rowling certainly seems to think so, at least. This would be more the thing I might do if Harry starts doing dark, along the lines of killing Cedric Diggory and then stealing away his girlfriend. I doubt that's going to happen. Besides, I do already have a Harry/Cho story out there for fans of the ship.**

**Harry/Kim: This is the least likely, I think. They have a good dynamic as they are, and I feel extremely disinclined to tamper with it. None of the other attendant girls are really viable either. Alyssa is the only one that might work, and I have plans for her already. Not revealing any more on that front.**

**Harry/Hermione: Blasphemy, I know. But it might work. Their conflicting views on magic and said thinking, and his hatred of her know-it-all attitude and so much else create a sort of appealing mutual dislike that can turn into physical attraction. Assuming of course I don't just let the troll kill her at Halloween (grins). But honestly, H/Hr shippers shouldn't hold their breath. This is very unlikely to happen, only slightly more viable than Kim.**

**There may be others, and I have Daphne or Blaise as an outside shot. Then of course I could just create some OC from out of nowhere. Give me your thoughts, but I'd prefer if you didn't treat it like some poll and just give a "vote." That won't really influence me in any way. And on a final female note, a lot of people seem to think that Su Li is a created character of mine. Well she sort of is for all intents and purposes, but she is also a canon character. Check the Harry Potter Lexicon if you want more info.**

**At least now I've given Harry a reason to pursue some Dark Arts power. I think that as a Ravenclaw, it isn't too out there for him to guess the Prophecy given a bit of info. It is rather blatantly obvious in my opinion. On another note, I absolutely love writing Lucius Malfoy. He is seriously my favorite character so far in this story. Harry and Penny are close behind, along with Cho. Well, at the risk of rambling too much, I'm going to cut it off here. Hope you all enjoy, and please review. Every single drop in the inbox is greater inspiration to keep going.**


	8. The Pain of Rejection

_Late that evening, Harry levitated all of his possessions and walked into a previously empty storage room in a secluded corner of the Ravenclaw common room. After strenuous hours of spellwork he had enlarged and transformed the dusty stone enclave into a perfect copy of his sleeping quarters at his grandmother's estate. Penny had helped with the Enlargement Charms to a degree, as she had worked with them a bit more extensively than Harry himself had. She provided pointers with theory as he did the application. In the end, he was pleased with his work. Now all that was missing was his future roommate. Cho was still busy packing her belongings._

_It hadn't been difficult cajoling Professor Flitwick into breaking protocol by allowing them live together. Harry was already a favorite with the majority of the staff due to his outstanding magical potential and hero status, and he was also the son of one of that particular teacher's most cherished students. Flitwick was also understanding of her reluctance to remain living in her previous room. And they were still relatively young at eleven and twelve respectively. Some of the first year boys were rather chagrined at the fact that Harry was effectively ditching them, but that was of little importance to him. He was tired from all of the magic he had cast in creating the room and plopped immediately down onto his comfortable king sized bed, every single crease and lump identical to the original in Surrey. The door remained unlocked for Cho as Harry fell asleep. Classes would commence in the morning, and with them the full Hogwarts experience._

**Chapter Seven: The First Week - A Bleeding Heart**

Disclaimer: If you've seen it before, it belongs to J.K. Rowling. Otherwise, it's mine. Am I the only one that finds these things to be extremely repetitive and pointless?

* * *

At the end of his first week as a Hogwarts student, Harry couldn't help but find himself unimpressed by the majority of the standard curriculum. Even at the second year level, both Charms and Transfiguration were far beneath his level. McGonagall's lesson had involved changing a rat into a wine goblet. Harry had stifled a yawn and done it perfectly with one lazy flick of his wrist, amazing the rest of the class, including the professor. He had likewise easily managed to animate his teapot in the first attempt in Flitwick's class. He spent the remainder of his time in both lessons tutoring Cho, who was average at best with working most charms and borderline horrid at transfiguring objects. She studied her hardest all the time, but that could only compensate so far for a lack of talent. 

While those subjects had simply bored him, others had revolted him. He had been most reluctant to even attend Herbology and work with his hands in the dirt. Potting shrivelfigs was far from his idea of a good time, and he did his best not to put much effort forth in the class. It might have been slightly more tolerable had the teacher kept nice flowering plants instead of disgusting abominations with teeth and tentacles. History of Magic was a nightmare. Harry enjoyed reading his history for the most part, but Professor Binns was just a dreadful teacher. Defense Against the Dark Arts could hardly even be called a class, and Astronomy was too far past his bedtime. It was now Friday morning, and Harry was just about to enter what would doubtless be his least favorite class yet.

The Potions classroom was everything that Harry has expected it to be, as he rather unhappily noted upon entry. It was dark and damp, and carried a stench horrid enough to out that one time that Dudley had passed gas right as the main course of supper was being served back at the estate to shame. Neither was he looking forward to having class with Professor Snape. Some students were already in the room. Harry quickly took a seat at the rear table of the dungeon workroom, setting up his porcelain cauldron and getting out his perfectly assembled collection of ingredients. Cho's parents had been most meticulous about arranging his purchases after his hefty expenditure at their little shop.

"This is the Gryffindor/Slytherin block, Potter. You're in the wrong class."

Harry looked up from where he was loading a small incense burner to help fight off the horrid odor of Snape's classroom to see Draco looking at him curiously. A quick schedule comparison with Su Li had given him the reason for his being placed in a separate Potions class from his housemates.

"I'm taking second year Charms and that class conflicts with the Ravenclaw/Hufflepuff Potions block, so they put me in this one instead. It doesn't really matter to me, though."

Draco nodded, a small hint of relief in his gray eyes as he took the adjacent seat.

"Well at least I have an excuse not to sit with Parkinson now."

Harry nodded with a slight smile, a bit cheered by the knowledge that he wasn't the only boy in his year being plagued by irritating fangirls. He had thankfully been able to avoid Lisa Turpin at breakfast by surrounding himself with other girls. He still had an unopened letter from home nestled inside his robes. Had he bothered to notice, Harry would have seen house segregation in full swing. Slytherins crowded around Harry and Draco at the rear of the classroom while Gryffindors dominated the front. Just as he moved to light his incense, the doors of the classroom slammed open. Professor Snape wasted no time in beginning his lecture, speaking even as he strode to his position at front of the room. His head was still bandaged from the previous day's spill, as Harry noted with satisfaction.

"There will be no silly wand-waving or ridiculous incantations in this class..."

Snape paused as he reached his desk at the front of the room. He turned on his heel, causing his black robes to swish dramatically. The Gryffindors seemed terrified of the man while the Slytherins were decidedly smug. The lone Ravenclaw was simply amused. He lit his incense with the tip of his wand while pulling his ponytail out of harm's way.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potionmaking. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses...I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even place a stopper on death – that is, if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach. Now then, let us begin today's lesson with the class roll. And put out that incense, Potter. Ten points from Ravenclaw."

Harry pulled a frown as he put out the incense, causing the unpleasant stench of the room to come wafting back into his nostrils. Snape proceeded to call roll, occasionally nodding or sneering at certain names. His face contorted into a scowl upon reaching Harry's.

"Ah, Potter...our little misplaced celebrity. Not even a week into your Hogwarts career and yet you already consider yourself too important to attend lessons with the rest of your house. As we've already documented your sheer lack of common sense, I think we'll test the other facets of your feeble little mind. Tell me, Potter, the concoction that results from mixing powdered root of asphodel with an infusion of wormwood."

Draco's eyes narrowed as the Potions Master spoke. Harry just shrugged with a grin. He hadn't bothered to study in advance for such a drab subject as this.

"Some mixture of the two, obviously. Powdered root of wormwood, I guess."

Snape tutted with a small smirk, though his eyes reflected no amusement. Hermione Granger immediately raised her hand. Harry found himself liking the girl less every time he shared a class with her. She had obviously memorized all of the textbooks before coming to school. And yet she hadn't the slightest clue about the real nature of magic. The professor was no more tolerant of the girl than Harry was.

"Incorrect. Clearly, fame still leaves much to be desired. Then let us try again. Tell me where you might look if I asked you to procure a bezoar."

Harry was ready this time. The answer was so obvious.

"In an apothecary, of course."

Several of the other students snickered at the response until Snape fixed the room with a sharp glare. Far from being intimidated by the man, Harry was simply exalting in all the attention. He had become rather used to it during the past week.

"Technically correct, Potter, but not what I was looking for. Another five points from Ravenclaw for a remarkably poor attempt at being witty, and two more for your smug tone. Explain the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane."

Losing House points didn't really faze Harry, as he had gained close to a hundred during the week's other classes.

"Well, they're spelled differently for starters..."

"Wrong again. Try cracking a book next time. Allow me to assure you that the consequences will be unpleasant should you ever again enter my classroom unprepared. For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood in solution creates a sleeping draft so powerful that it is often called the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone found in the stomach of a goat that will save you from most poisons, and monkshood and wolfsbane are in fact the same ingredient, that also goes by the name of aconite. You should all be writing this down. Instructions for today's potion can be found on page three of your textbooks. Potter, I do hope that you've at least thought to bring yours."

Harry just ignored the man and retrieved his Potions textbook while Draco glared contemptuously at his Head of House. The greasy man's bullying amused not a single student in the class. Harry was friendly with most of the first year Slytherins and the others were too afraid to cross Malfoy by laughing at his friend's expense, and the Gryffindors tended to hero worship him. If only to irritate Snape, Harry decided to use his wand to brew the entire concoction. It was a simple potion designed to cure boils. Draco whispered in Harry's ear as he levitated his pestle to crush his snake's fangs.

"Don't worry, Harry. Father told me to owl him if Professor Snape gave you any trouble. He seemed to know that this might happen for some reason, though he wouldn't give me any details. Regardless, he'll sort this mess out."

Harry nodded, having no desire to protect Snape from Lucius Malfoy's wrath.

"He was practically snarling at me even during the feast. I can't imagine why."

Harry lazily used his wand to levitate ingredients onto his silver scales until he had them in the correct quantities and then deposit them into his cauldron at the indicated points. He absentmindedly resolved to ask Cho what the Chinese characters painted onto the side stood for. Her parents had told him to touch the charmed stirrer and recite the potion's proper name, and it would mix the brew for him. Once his cauldron was off the fire and the porcupine quills added, Harry took out his letter. He felt Draco nudging him as he started to read. The letter was from the girls, written in Christine's flowery hand. He had only gotten halfway through the second line when...

_"Evanesco."_

Harry looked up into Snape's sneering face as his nearly completed potion vanished from the cauldron. The tall professor snatched away the letter and slammed it onto the desk. He leaned in close, his coal black eyes boring into Harry's vibrant emerald green.

"I do not allow self-stirring cauldrons and other such amenities in my classes. You are to brew this potion again from scratch tonight in detention, where I can keep an eye on you and ensure that you do not cheat. Zero marks for this lesson and twenty points from Ravenclaw. Peruse your ridiculous fan mail elsewhere, Potter."

Harry pulled a nasty face and put away his letter, crossing his arms and pouting. He said nothing for the rest of the class as Snape occupied himself with berating the Gryffindors, especially Weasley and Longbottom. The latter had managed to melt Seamus Finnigan's cauldron and get sent to the Hospital Wing. Every single Slytherin received some sort of praise regardless of the quality of his or her work, and Draco was awarded ten points for his admittedly perfect potion. The pale boy responded with a curt nod, betraying his own anger with the greasy professor. Draco strode determinedly towards the Owlery as soon as the class was over, while Harry returned to his room. The dandy young wizard would later receive a note during supper informing him that his detention was cancelled, but that he was not to employ illicit brewing aids in future Potions lessons. Professor Snape was visibly flushed and avoided looking Harry in the face from his seat at the staff table. Lucius Malfoy's response to his son's report was prompt and effective, whatever it was.

* * *

Harry sat in his transfigured bed hours after that same meal along with a few of the girls from Ravenclaw, dressed in his favorite lavender colored silk shirt with flowered green trousers. His little private palace had quickly become one of the favorite hangouts for the younger female members of the house, and was typically open to anybody of the fairer gender. Professor Flitwick had helped with the wards on the room, amazed to see such a young student have the ability to comprehend graduate level material in his subject, even if Harry was as yet unable to perform the spells himself. Harry briefly considered researching a spell keyed specifically to keep Lisa Turpin out, as the girl seemed to be a constant presence in the room, much to Cho's annoyance. And Harry's as well, as she invariably tried to talk his ear off whenever he attempted to read. 

Not that she was his only admirer at this point by any stretch. By the week's end, stories of Harry Potter's sensitivity and preference for girls, as well as his knight in shining armor defense of a bullied classmate had spread throughout the school. As a result, the young boy wonder had quickly found himself the most sought-after companion at Hogwarts. Aside from the few Ravenclaws and Slytherins that actually knew him, practically every girl in his year seemed to have at least a semi-serious crush on him. Harry naturally remained blissfully oblivious to the state of things. His female yearmates were joined by the vast majority of the second years, a respectable number of third years and even a few beyond that. Had Harry been slightly more astute, he would have noticed a particularly well-endowed sixth year Hufflepuff bat her eyelashes and smile suggestively at him during breakfast the previous day.

Right now, his companions consisted of Su Li and Padma Patil, as the three Ravenclaws worked collaboratively on the week's assignments. Cho was out practicing Seeker drills at the Quidditch Pitch as she had been during every moment of her free time ever since tryouts for the team had been announced for the coming Sunday afternoon during the first morning of classes. She was bound and determined to make the team. Harry might have been a bit put out with her for essentially abandoning him, but he had plenty of other friends and pursuits to occupy his time. And he wasn't ignorant of the fact that professional Quidditch was essentially her big dream in life, having listened to her ramble on about the wonders of the game every night since she had moved into his room. He wouldn't dream of standing in the path of that. Presently, Padma pointed out a mistake on his History of Magic essay.

"That's wrong, Harry. Grilthauk the Greedy ascended to the role of chieftain of the unified goblin clans in 1951, not in 1945."

"Oh, right. Thanks, Padma."

"You know, my twin sister's been trying all week to get me to help set her up with you."

Harry shrugged and languidly batted his ponytail around as he scribbled the last three inches of his essay on the current goblin warlord. He was honestly a bit surprised to hear that girls so young were even interested in dating. He also hated studying these boring school subjects and doing assignments, but there was no help for it. By teaming with friends he was able to save time and occupy himself with conversation as he worked.

"Oh, right. The Gryffindor. She and one of her friends accosted me in Astronomy."

Padma rolled her eyes with a somewhat unladylike snort.

"That would be Lavender Brown, the dumb blonde. One of her mates from before school. She's mostly to blame for Parvati being such an airhead. My sister used to be as studious as I am. But ever since she made friends with that bint the only things she's been interested in are clothes and boys. It's no small wonder she's taken such a liking to you."

Harry nodded with a slightly vicious grin. His two study partners were now finished with their essays as well.

"Horrid taste, I might add. That hot pink dress she wears around is positively gaudy. Such a fake manufactured color. But they're both nice enough at least, and not half as annoying as that bloody Granger girl."

Su glanced over and spoke in her soft, shy voice.

"There's nothing wrong with working hard. We're not all heroes and aristocrats, Harry."

Harry let out an irritated breath.

"But that's not what bothers me. She's just so smug about it. Goes around shoving everything she knows in everybody's face, as if we're all supposed to be impressed. Memorizing a bunch of facts doesn't make you a real practitioner of magic."

A third voice chimed in from his now open doorway.

"Reminds me of some showoff that turned one of the school launches into a paddleboat."

Harry immediately flushed crimson at the sound of Penny's voice, immediately picking up his partially read copy of Gilderoy Lockhart's _Gadding With Ghouls_ to hide his burning face. The gesture might have been more effective had he not held the book upside down. Su and Padma turned to one another and smirked knowingly. Harry's crush on the attractive older girl was painfully obvious to anybody that saw him near her.

"I think we've gotten enough done for tonight. See you in the morning."

Harry grabbed each of his two friends in a one-armed hug before they left for their dormitory, closing his bedroom door behind them. Penny watched the scene with a smile before tossing him an envelope and sitting down on the edge of his king-sized mattress. She was dressed only in a sleeveless white shirt and a pair of pajama bottoms and socks. He was mostly too young to even comprehend the desire that he felt for her.

"An owl just brought this in for you, handsome Looks pretty official."

The letter was sealed with the Malfoy crest, and was likely from Draco's father

_**XXXXXXXXX**_

_**Mister Potter,**_

_**As you have perhaps surmised from your cancelled detention, Draco saw fit to immediately inform me of the derogatory treatment that you were forced to suffer at the hands of Professor Snape this morning. Such conduct is wholly unbecoming an accredited Hogwarts teacher, and more so in the case of the Head of House Slytherin. You are to be commended for maintaining proper etiquette by refraining from retaliating in kind. I have wasted no time in confronting our beloved Potions Master on this matter, and you may rest assured that there will be no repeat of his reprehensible behavior.**_

_**On a more positive note, I have succeeded in locating a suitable fencing master for both Draco and yourself. You will both train weekly at Hogwarts in the old school practice room. I trust that you will remember its location. I daresay that you may both be pleasantly surprised upon seeing exactly whom I have retained for the task. Your first lesson will take place on Sunday afternoon at two o'clock sharp. Be prompt and dress accordingly for physical activity. I hold the highest expectations for both you and my son.**_

_**Sincerely,**_

_**Lucius A. Malfoy**_

_**Chairwizard, Hogwarts Board of School Governors**_

_**XXXXXXXXX**_

Harry chewed his bottom lip nervously upon reading the last paragraph, as his lone companion noticed.

"Looks like bad news, kiddo. Nibbling your lips off isn't going to help, you know."

"It's about my fencing lessons. The first one's on Sunday afternoon, but I was planning on going out and watching Cho try out for Quidditch. She's bound to be disappointed when I tell her that I have to do this instead, and making the team means so much to her."

"Maybe you can postpone. Either way, I'm sure she'll understand. Life can be tough like this sometimes. No matter what you choose to do, you're risking letting somebody down. I understand. And don't worry about Cho not having any support out there. A bunch of us girls are going out to watch the tryouts. We'll be her cheering section in your place."

Harry didn't respond to the option of postponement, as he knew that it wouldn't be possible. He smiled broadly despite his rather depressed mood at the rest.

"I appreciate that. Thanks, Penny."

"You're very welcome, handsome. Now tell me all about your first week of classes."

"Rather boring, to be completely honest. I didn't really learn anything worth knowing at all except for in Astronomy. Herbology and Potions are my least favorite subjects so far. I could potentially appreciate both Charms and Transfiguration, but I was able to perform the spells they taught us this week back when I was seven years old. Both classes are sort of easy if you ask me, despite the fact that I'm taking them at the second year level."

Penny shook her head, her blue eyes reflecting both amazement and amusement.

"Merlin, I remember the early years of Transfiguration just about killing me. Took me a solid month before I could so much as turn a matchstick into a pin. So it's really not so much that the classes aren't hard enough as it is that you're just extremely gifted."

Harry was quite gratified by the compliment, but tried to keep an air of modesty around Penny regardless.

"I've had a long time with nothing to do but learn magic, is all. I'm not that great."

"Just about everybody's seen your paddle boat, kiddo. I overheard Professor McGonagall in her office the other day boasting to a colleague that even most graduate level apprentices couldn't pull that particular bit of spellwork off without a hitch. You're most definitely a prodigy, but it's still good of you not to be arrogant about it."

Harry didn't have a response for that, taking a brief moment before changing the subject. He noticed that she was a little paler than he remembered and had dark circles just barely visible under her eyes.

"You look exhausted."

Penny smiled grimly, but the gesture still managed to retain its comforting quality.

"Nice of you to notice. I've got OWL's this year. The professors are assigning us piles of work from the very start. Snape gave a thirty-inch essay on the magical properties of ginseng on Wednesday. Add my Prefect duties on top of that and I'm totally bushed."

Harry inwardly wished that he could help alleviate her burden somehow, but knew that he would be unable to given his rather lacking knowledge of magical theory. For perhaps the only time in his life, he wished that he had been just a bit more diligent in his childhood studies.

"Maybe you should be sleeping then, but I'm still really glad that you came to visit me. I missed you all week."

"I'm tired, but not really sleepy. More like just drained. But I'm sure you've had a long week too, this being your first at Hogwarts and everything. I'll let you get some shuteye now, handsome. See you tomorrow sometime."

Harry didn't want that at all and desperately grasped her hand as she rose to leave, staring up at the older girl with pleading emerald green eyes and speaking in a low whisper.

"Please stay here with me a little longer."

He felt the gentle warmth of her palm sliding up his arm to his shoulder, and then across his upper back to the other. Harry exhaled quietly at her touch, as if it were some addictive drug that he had been previously denied. Penny's voice was quite soft as well.

"Okay, if that's what you want."

The younger boy took the arm slung around him as an open invitation and plunged himself into her intoxicating body heat, burying his head into her chest as he had in the common room during that first night at Hogwarts. He could touch and smell the supple flesh through her thin and increasingly soaked shirt, making for an entirely different sensation than before. She apparently thought so also, as she tossed her head back with an endearing little whimper, causing her wavy black locks to whip through the air. His cheek presently grazed the center of her left breast, eliciting a mewl that would have brought somebody running into the room if not for the privacy charms that he had erected around his chambers. He knew how to read a girl's reactions from Alyssa and thus ground his hand over the same spot, taking two of Penny's fingers into his mouth as hers slid across his face. Harry was hardly aware that he was sucking on her digits as he savored the sweet taste of her skin, eventually letting go in favor of licking the sweat off of her throat.

"You're beautiful..."

Harry's accidental murmur brought Penny crashing back into reality. She had been lost in her own sensual world for the entirety of their brief encounter, and distanced herself as though Harry had suddenly contracted the plague upon realizing what they were doing. She looked at him cautiously and winced at the hurt expression on his face.

"Harry, we can't do this. We just can't. It's just not right."

Harry looked both wounded and confused simultaneously.

"I don't think there's anything wrong with it at all."

Penny sighed and held his hand, adopting a patient tone of voice.

"Listen to me, Harry. You're barely eleven years old and I'm well on the way to being sixteen. What we were just doing is taboo, and could get us both into a whole world of trouble. Think about what your grandmother would say if she heard of you rolling around in bed with an older girl. I think that you're a very sweet and attractive young man and much more skilled at what we were doing than you need to be at your age, but none of that changes the fact that it's still wrong. And that's not all. I'm also a Hogwarts Prefect. It'd be a major problem for the entire school if word got out that a person in a responsible position was carrying on an underage affair with the magical world's returning hero. Something like this would follow us both around for the rest of our lives."

Harry held no stock by societal conventions, thinking them meant for the common herd and beneath one such as enlightened as he. He thus took Penny's sensible argument as nothing more than an outright rejection of himself as a person. He willed himself not to display any outward sign of his distress, as he felt that bursting into tears on the spot over it would only prove to her that he really was just some sniveling little kid that wasn't worthy of her.

"...I'm sorry. I guess I shouldn't have been so presumptuous."

His voice betrayed his bitterness at the entire situation. Harry had never really been denied much of anything in his entire life, and so this particular jolt of reality had stung him rather deeply. Kim had used similar arguments with him in the past as well, but had always given him his way when he eventually became upset. He was red in the face, due to a quite unhealthy mixture of embarrassment and rage.

"Please don't be embarrassed. There's nothing wrong with feeling the way that you do. I'm the one that's in the wrong here, handsome. Part of me wants nothing more than to be everything that you want me to be. But it's not right for either of us at this time. I really do care a lot for you, and maybe something might happen when you're a little older."

Harry was in no mood to be coddled at the moment and kept his reply short.

"...Maybe."

He felt her giving him a gentle hug and returned it rather unenthusiastically.

"I'm off to sleep now. I really hope that I won't lose a friend over this."

"Good night, Penny. I'll see you at breakfast."

Penny left with that, leaving Harry alone on his bed. A stream of hot tears wrenched out of his eyes as soon as the door shut behind her. The odor in the room was odd, consisting of a mixture of sweat and Penny's unique scent, as well as a hint of something slightly more pungent that Harry had never experienced before. He was isolated and more upset than he had ever been in his life, and far too humiliated by his personal feelings of inadequacy to even think of seeking out company.

He forcefully dug through his trunk in search of something to read, eventually fishing out the Dark Arts tome that Lucius Malfoy had illicitly given him. The forbidden magic called out to him once again, and this time he did not reject its addictive lure. He opened lexicon and began reading the early chapters, committing the spells and their incantations and wand motions into his memory as he had with all other spell books in his collection. The stabbing pain in his heart numbed and disappeared as he read, and he did so with greater gusto for several hours, when Cho returned from her Quidditch training. The sudden distraction pulled him from his fixation on the tome, which he quickly hid before she could see it. For her part, she was too exhausted to even say hello and only took the time to strip off her dirtied clothes before collapsing onto the bed next to him and falling asleep, dressed only in her sweat-soaked undergarments. Harry held her much tighter than usual that night, craving human contact more than he ever had in his life.

* * *

Harry had made a point of avoiding Penny the next day, spending the lion's share of his time with Draco and company in the Slytherin common room and the rest outside watching Cho soar around the Quidditch Pitch on her Comet Two-Sixty. She had been rightfully disappointed when he broke the news of his being unable to come and watch her big tryout due to his fencing lesson. But she had also been as understanding as Penny had predicted she would be, only coercing him into a promise to attend all of her matches should she make the squad. He had happily agreed, and the dispute was over that quickly. 

And now he was en route to that very lesson. His hair was simply let down in a mop. Cho had been too busy with her own concerns to have time to do his hair as usual. He was dressed appropriately in a sharp white shirt and sweater vest and trousers, along with his knee breeches and dragonhide boots. He could only vaguely remember where he was supposed to be going when a familiar drawl sounded in front of him.

"Why, Potter. Your pretty hair isn't arranged today. I suppose your maid owled in sick."

Harry looked over with a lazy grin. Draco was wearing a frilly white dress shirt and slacks, along with a standard pair of black shoes. For perhaps the first time, Harry looked slightly more casual and normal than his pale friend. His personality and physique had darkened just the slightest bit since his first foray into the occult, but only those who knew him extremely well would ever have noticed. His vibrant green eyes were just a shade duller, and with the smallest inkling of malice inside. Most would attribute it to a simple consequence of growing up, if they picked up on it at all. He had good friends to counterbalance the corruptive influence of the black magic, Cho and the Ravenclaw girls in his year, Draco and also Penny, even if he was ignoring her at the moment.

"She's not a maid, Malfoy, and she's trying out for Quidditch. Like you wish you were."

Draco scowled and then sneered, a glimmer of appreciation in his gray eyes.

"Nice work, Potter. That was almost mean-spirited. I do hope you know where we're supposed to be going. Father will be beyond furious if he hears that we somehow managed to be tardy for our first lesson."

"I have a general idea. I wasn't exactly paying attention to where I was headed last time."

"How typical. Lead the way, I suppose. And father chastises me for being too oblivious to my surroundings, but not a word to you. It's a travesty."

Harry smiled and shook his black mane.

"Perhaps, though I'm also not a Slytherin like you. Nor am I his son."

"But he wishes that you were sometimes. On both counts."

Harry didn't bother to reply to that, having nothing to say. He supposed he ought to feel honored that a man of Lucius Malfoy's distinction would like to have him as his own son. Then again, such a thing would also come at Draco's expense, as evidenced by the tangible hint of disgust in his voice. Not that Harry noticed it due to his eternal naiveté. The pair presently entered a corridor that Harry recognized as being close to their destination.

"...Follow me. I'm pretty sure I can find the way from here."

Draco only nodded and trailed behind. The reached the training room and entered. A familiar aristocrat stood before them, dressed for a spar with a long epee girded at his waist. The broad hilt of Lucius Malfoy's enchanted silver sword was engraved with serpent carvings. The man's trademark cane was noticeably absent. Harry was visibly surprised to see him but Draco's face betrayed nothing, almost as if he had been fully expecting his father's presence. Lucius had previously been gazing out of the large window and enjoying the splendid view, but turned about gracefully as the door opened. Harry had made no noise, and was rather impressed by the aristocrat's level of awareness.

"Good afternoon, boys. You are both right on time."

Draco was the one to respond, bowing deferentially as usual before his father.

"Father. I seem to recall your expressing that you were too busy to train us personally."

The man's reply bore a small hint of amusement.

"Your memory is astounding, Dragon. Regardless, the Ministry of Magic will no doubt survive one afternoon each week without my continued presence. I did in fact attempt to procure an independent instructor for the both of you but found myself quite appalled by the level of incompetence that my search yielded. Not a single one of the swordsmen whom I tested proved able to last more than a few uninspired exchanges. I could hardly allow any such fools to be responsible for the education of my heir and his friend."

Draco nodded.

"I see. We thank you for gracing us with your priceless time, father."

Harry quickly shook his head in agreement. Lucius's expression waxed sterner in a less than an instant. His metallic gray eyes lost all traces of humor as he came to look more akin to the man that Harry had met in Gringotts on his birthday.

"Consider it your privilege, Draco. Firstly, I am not your father whilst inside this room. You shall henceforth refer to me as Master Malfoy, and the same applies to you, Harry. Now come and stand before me. We will commence our training immediately."

Harry was slightly chagrined at the idea of calling anybody his master, but said nothing. He and Draco both walked silently to stand before the Malfoy patriarch, the dandy young wizard doing his best to mimic his friend's proud and straight posture. He had a certain fluid quality to his, while Draco was completely stiff. Lucius examined his son first.

"Strong and proud. You have not forgotten your previous instruction, excellent."

And then he reached Harry, nodding approvingly at what he saw.

"Powerful, yet graceful. A natural swordsman, indeed. Avery judged you correctly."

Harry kept quiet due to the distinct impression that he was expected not to speak. Lucius waved his wand towards the corner of the room, wordlessly summoning a thin blade much the same as his own, except emblazoned with the Malfoy family crest instead of with snakes. He handed the weapon to his son, who examined it quizzically.

"This was my training sword from my own school days. It has been passed down through the heirs to our ancestral line for generations, and now it falls into your hands, Dragon. I expect that you will treat it with the same respect and care as I did. All of the Malfoy blades are magically bonded to our bloodline, and so I cannot give one to Harry. He will simply have to settle for the school's weapons until he can procure his own."

Lucius inclined his head towards a rack of training blades leaning against the near wall. Harry took the gesture as a command to retrieve one. He first considered a standard rapier in the same make as the one he had used in his brief workout after meeting with Dumbledore, but decided instead to take a sword with a somewhat edged blade that was suitable for both stabbing and slicing. With his tall size, being forced to employ only lunging attacks would not do very well. Lucius seemed to agree.

"A most suitable choice for your physique. A normal rapier would have doubtless crippled your repertoire. Nevertheless, you must eventually learn to properly wield one, as you will find that most formal tournaments mandate their usage. But we are nowhere near that point at the present time."

Lucius then seamlessly progressed into the day's activities.

"We will begin with an hour of calisthenics. In a proper duel, suitable conditioning is every bit as important as skill. This is equally true for wand battles. Many a wizard has met his downfall solely due to poor physical stamina. We will cover the exercise regimen in detail today, and I will expect you to progress through it daily. One workout per week will prove wholly insufficient to condition yourselves to the degree that my training will require."

Harry knew that this had more to do with his own physio-magical dilemma than it did with the training itself, and felt a bit flattered that Lucius was catering the program to meet his individual needs. As promised, the older man tortured their bodies and depleted their energy reserves for a solid hour. Harry was too exhausted to even stand after the strenuous workout, and Draco was more than a little flushed in his own right. Lucius was none the worse for wear at all, and seemed torn between amusement and disdain with how easily his two young pupils were drained. He reached into his traveling cloak from where it rested on a chair and withdrew two small flasks of water laced with a potent restorative draught. Harry found himself fully rejuvenated after drinking, leaving him with a greater respect for the art of brewing potions. Not that he gained any desire whatsoever to partake in it. The discipline was still far too vulgar and disgusting for him.

"Now that you are both properly stretched and acclimated to exertion, we will begin fencing properly. First, you will both adopt the form that you feel to be most suitable. You will optimize your potential through defining your own styles from the first rather than being forced to rigidly adapt to mine. No two swordsmen are identical. Many fencing master produce substandard results due to brazen attempts to mold their apprentices into copies of themselves."

Still neither boy said a word as they obediently followed their instructor's directions. Draco stood sideways and held his epee straight out in front of him pointing at Harry, resting a good bit of his weight on his closer foot. It wasn't a very defensible position, instead being designed for rapid and aggressive jerking stabs and swings. Harry meanwhile took a much more elegant pose, arching his right leg forward and resting his full weight on it while holding his blade upwards in front of him bent at a slight angle. His position was better suited to a defensive style, parrying and then countering with powerful and fluid downward slashes and lunging thrusts. He looked much like a noble knight as he stood. Lucius meticulously corrected both of their forms, gently guiding their bodily positions in order to maximize their effectiveness.

"I have always felt that experience is the best teacher. I will therefore ask the two of you to spar one another ten bouts, during which I will critique your individual performances. Your blades are both blunted so as not to cause any serious harm, and thus you may feel free to give no quarter. I am expecting you both to display your best efforts. I must be able to gauge your full abilities and mental states in order to augment them. Begin."

Harry took the first bout with ease, sidestepping Draco's awkward initial thrust and sending his blade clattering to the floor with a flowing overhand chop. Lucius nodded approvingly with a slight smile while Draco scowled in indignation. The second was more difficult, as the Malfoy heir then had something to prove. Harry parried the initial flurry, almost getting hit on the shoulder with a particularly nasty swing. He eventually knocked Draco's blade arm off to the side with a powerful thrust and than whirled around and caught the young aristocrat flush across the stomach with a roundhouse swing. He lost the third bout, as Draco's barrage of thrusts easily broke through his guard. Harry was stabbed four times in succession as a result. Draco was now remembering his form and Harry was having far more difficulty with him. The younger Malfoy took the next several bouts, while Harry won a particularly taxing seventh round with a powerful thrust. That effort exhausted the normally sedentary boy, and his pale friend rapidly won the remaining three bouts and convincingly took the series by a score of seven to three.

"Excellent work, both of you. Draco, you exhibit more skill than I had originally presumed. Apparently your informal childhood lessons have remained with you into the present. You fought very well. Harry, you show truly remarkable promise and display both impeccable poise and astounding prescience. I was most impressed with your performance in the three bouts that you won, and also in the seven that you did not. However, both of you display certain weaknesses. Draco, you are wholly lacking in any sort of defense. Any swordsman that survives your initial flurry can wound or disarm you with ease. You are a Slytherin. Such brash recklessness is unbecoming. Harry, you are appropriately cautious, but your counterattacks are slow and telegraphed, and thus quite easily avoided. You place far too much emphasis upon showmanship. You attacks are elegant but impractical. Stellar performances for your first formal lessons, boys. Remember to exercise daily and ponder your mistakes for next Sunday's training."

Each gulped down another bottle of restorative water and followed Lucius out into the corridor. The aristocrat then grilled them on their first week of school, asking for their opinions of the quality of instruction as well as the professors themselves. Harry was tempted to ask what Lucius had threatened Snape with to cow the greasy man. He refrained, however, considering it to be a rude question. He couldn't help but start to think of Lucius in a somewhat fatherly manner given the way that the man treated him in identical fashion to his own son. The senior Malfoy was terminally stern and demanding but one could easily tell that he cared for his son very much underneath. Draco eventually left to walk his father to the edge of the Hogwarts grounds. Harry was invited to follow along but politely declined and returned to his dormitory. Ravenclaw Tower seemed to be bustling with much more activity than usual.

"There you are, Harry. I did it. I got the starting Seeker position."

Harry grinned broadly at Cho's beaming enthusiasm.

"That's wonderful news. I guess I'll have to attend all the matches now."

She hugged him in response. His own exhaustion and personal issues were completely forgotten in his happiness for his friend.

"Remember, you promised."

"I won't forget."

And so, Harry's tumultuous first week at Hogwarts ended on a high note. But this simplistic felicity was not meant to last. For soon, far greater trials than a jilted heart would stand in the young prodigy's path.

(End Chapter Seven)

**Author's Note: Almost half a month late, but here's the next chapter. Summer term papers, two successive updates to my other story, new video game, and now the start of the fall term have stood in the way of an update. My big announcement here is to say that I will likely be skipping over the second and third years of canon in this fic and moving on to where the action picks up in fourth. Events will mostly mirror canon anyway with some detailed alterations, but I can deal with those in summary format where needed. I'll edit in some more comments later tonight, but I now have to shower and dress for class. Later everybody. Hope you enjoyed, and please review.**


	9. Mountains and Rivers of Filth

_"There you are, Harry. I did it. I got the starting Seeker position."_

_Harry grinned broadly at Cho's beaming enthusiasm._

_"That's wonderful news. I guess I'll have to attend all the matches now."_

_She hugged him in response. His own exhaustion and personal issues were completely forgotten in his happiness for his friend._

_"Remember, you promised."_

_"I won't forget."_

_And so, Harry's tumultuous first week at Hogwarts ended on a high note. But this simplistic felicity was not meant to last. For soon, far greater trials than a jilted heart would stand in the young prodigy's path._

**Chapter Eight: Troubles With Trolls – A Slytherin's Scheme**

Disclaimer: If you've seen it before, it belongs to J.K. Rowling. Otherwise, it's mine. Naturally, I'm making no money off this. Am I the only one that finds these things to be extremely repetitive and pointless?

* * *

"I'm telling you, Potter, whatever that bloody dog's guarding has to be some powerful magical artifact." 

Harry sighed as he listened to Draco recount his theories regarding the supposed hellhound in the restricted third floor corridor and what it might be protecting as the pair walked briskly towards the Halloween Feast. They were already late and the young prodigy had heard this tale on at least fifteen separate occasions over the course of the previous two months. The ordeal had started in the second week of term, during the Malfoy heir's initial flying lesson with the Gryffindors. Draco had swiped that pudgy duffer Neville Longbottom's prized Remembrall and taken to the air after the boy had fallen from a wild broomstick and broken his wrist, only to be followed by one Ronald Weasley. The young aristocrat had indulged in a game of tag with the redhead for several minutes, easily flying circles around his enraged counterpart before casually tossing the stolen object into the lake and rushing back to the ground. Weasley had been alone and floating stupidly in the air upon Madam Hooch's return and had netted a month's detentions for his trouble, spared from expulsion due only to the headmaster's mercy.

That incident had prompted Weasley to challenge Draco to a formal duel at breakfast the following morning. Harry had been struggling with matted hair where Cho had rolled over onto it during the night and had missed that particular meal, and so his Slytherin friend had taken a reluctant Theodore Nott as his second. Weasley had apparently nominated the timid Longbottom in response, the latter still upset over the loss of his grandmother's gift and eager for payback. Draco had snitched them out to Mister Flich well in advance, but his ego just couldn't resist the temptation to sneak out also to watch as the two Gryffindors got burned for being out of bounds at night. His plan was going smoothly until the two boys, accompanied by an exasperated Hermione Granger, ran in his direction in an attempt to escape the noose. The junior Malfoy had been forced to flee as well and the unlikely quartet ended up right in the forbidden corridor, in the massive canine's domain. Draco had been quick to notice the trap door and had been trying in vain to cajole Harry into making an excursion to steal what lay beneath ever since.

"For all you know, it's guarding the headmaster's prized sock collection. I can't believe we're having this conversation yet again. Since you're so curious, by all means rally those two thugs of yours and go investigate. Let's please concentrate on making the feast before the main course ends in the meantime. I'm positively famished."

Such sarcastic comments would have been wholly out-of-character for the dandy young Harry Potter that had stepped onto the Hogwarts Express nearly two months ago. The naïve little boy was starting to evolve after being removed from his grandmother's estate. He remained surprisingly dedicated to the workout regimen stipulated by Draco's father and his tall body was beginning to display results. He was far from chiseled, but the faintest outlines of muscle were now beginning to appear underneath his soft and effeminate form. His strength and stamina were increasing, as his exercises became easier with each passing day. His fencing form was improving drastically, and he could now easily hold his own with Draco. The constant praise that Harry received from Lucius served to irritate the nobleman's son on occasion, but it seemed to fuel his motivation to work harder. Besides, Draco seemed cognizant of the fact that Harry was a true prodigy and was more than happy to latch onto the boy in order to better his own position.

And he was changing in more ways than simply his physique. Harry's near constant association with Malfoy and his Slytherin ilk had caused him to unconsciously begin to adopt some of their mannerisms. A newfound occasionally sarcastic tongue combined with the razor wit gleamed from his Ravenclaw housemates to make this child a force to be reckoned with in any conversation, even more so than he had been before coming to Hogwarts. He still retained the larger part of his naiveté and his fixation on appearances as well as his overwhelming romantic dandyism, but the wheels of change were turning nonetheless. Harry had come to accept and embrace his fame and reveled in the constant attention that it brought him from the remainder of the student body. He was at the absolute center of his universe and he loved every single second of it. Draco snorted at the suggestion of taking Crabbe and Goyle on an adventure into the unknown.

"Those two apes might expose their armpits and kill the beast that way. You're the best and strongest wizard of our generation, Harry. Nobody questions it. You're the one person who can get past all the obstacles that the old fool has surely put in place. I'm asking for your help here."

Harry smiled indulgently at the praise, always enjoying being complimented, but his resolve remained firmly set. He chose to ignore Draco's insult towards the headmaster, having come to terms with the fact that the Malfoys were staunchly anti-Dumbledore.

"I abjectly refuse to lower myself to the level of a common criminal."

"You can be such a thick-headed Gryffindor, Potter. It's only illegal if we get caught."

"It's you who's being dense, Malfoy. The headmaster will have detection wards set up all over the place in there. He'd know in an instant. Think about what your father would say after seeing his sole heir apprehended for attempted grand larceny."

Draco averted his eyes momentarily and Harry knew that he'd won. The pale boy's father was his omnipresent weak point, and both knew exactly what would happen in the case that the younger Malfoy were to get caught making a heist on the forbidden corridor. Though he did love his son, his bloodline's reputation always came first. Lucius would disown Draco in a second should he somehow bring dishonor to the family. Draco changed the subject, though Harry somehow knew that he'd be having this argument again within a week's time.

"Speaking of father, I still can't believe he kept us all day like that. Halloween's supposed to be a holiday, for Merlin's sake. Everybody else got to spend the day lounging around the castle while we suffered through six hours of fencing practice and then three hours of magical dueling. I'm exhausted."

Harry's thoughts mirrored Draco's complaints. He had been looking forward to a nice lazy day of reclining around the fire in Ravenclaw Tower, reading and conversing with his assorted female friends. Instead he got woken up early by Lisa Turpin, who rather annoyingly alerted him to the fact that Lucius Malfoy was awaiting him in the corridor. After a hurried shower and dress, he was off for the most grueling day of training that he had experienced yet. Apparently Draco's father felt that the important art of magical combat was being ignored with their focus on swordsmanship, and so three hours of intense wand sparring followed the boys' extended workout. Once finally released, and only because Lucius had his own Samhain festival to attend, Harry had been left with just enough time to rush back to his room to do a quick toilet and dress for the traditional feast. He decided to head down to the dungeons and walk with Draco as opposed to navigating through the throngs of students walking towards the Great Hall on his own.

"…Something smells wretched. Malfoy, I do hope that you remembered to take a bath."

In accordance with his strangled words, Harry dramatically pinched his nose and fought down the wave of nausea resulting from the horrid stench that presently assaulted his senses. He and Draco were still only halfway through the mazelike dungeons of Hogwarts. The latter glanced at the young dandy with a raised eyebrow as he walked forward, only to comically cover his own face with his hands as he retched violently as he reached Harry's position. Harry covered his mouth with his royal blue cape and crept forward. Draco followed behind, peering around the corner before turning ever paler than usual with fright. The younger Malfoy rushed behind Harry, gray eyes wide with dread.

"T-t-t-troll. There's a bloody Mountain Troll inside the castle!"

Harry looked at Draco and responded in a slow drawl, unsheathing his long bamboo wand from the waistband of his robes.

"I don't suppose this is a part of the traditional festivities, then."

The stench became stronger as Draco scrabbled backwards against the dungeon corridor's damp stone wall. Harry found this situation to be quite hideous. He could hear the creature coming closer as his friend pointed shakily around the corner.

"It's coming this way. Harry, do something!"

Harry steeled himself and tiptoed along the wall, finally taking a glance around the corner himself. The troll was enormous and ugly, standing at well over twice Harry's height with lumpy gray skin and hideous crowed feet. It carried a large blunted club that the young prodigy did not particularly care to be on the business end of. Harry was completely offended at the idea that such hideous creatures actually existed. It still seemed to be wandering about aimlessly, not having noticed the pair. He looked cautiously over his shoulder at Draco.

"As the Chinese often say, 'of all the thirty-six ways to get out of trouble, the best way is simply this – leave.' Let's escape before it notices us."

Harry's grand scheme met with obvious approval, given the pale Slytherin's frenzied nodding.

"There may be some Slytherin in you after all. We'll go back to my common room."

The pair withdrew back down the corridor away from the rampaging troll. After fifty yards or so, Harry's nostrils were again ravaged by another odious stench. A second troll emerged from a passageway that led to the potions laboratories and Professor Snape's quarters. This one had a bluish tint to its skin and carried a spiked club. The second troll stank of rotting fish and mildew as opposed the pungent aroma of feces and sweaty socks that accompanied its mountain counterpart. Harry judged this one to be a River Troll. The other troll was still approaching from the direction they had just come. The two young aristocrats were hemmed in.

"Well…this certainly isn't good. Merlin, this stinks, and our situation's quite bad too."

"Such a cutting wit you possess, Potter. I certainly pray that you have another _wondrous_ pearl of chink wisdom to save us now."

Harry closed his eyes, resigning himself to the fact that he was going to have to fight in order to save the both of them. He really wasn't a violent person by nature, but there was no help for it now. Draco was only going to be a liability here. He stood a better chance of surviving if he didn't have to worry about protecting the other boy. His voice adopted a chivalrous sort of tone, as if he were the noble knight preparing to slay the dragon.

"Don't be so alarmed. I am here, after all. I shall engage these beasts whilst you run up to the Great Hall andprocure assistance."

This was a pathetically simple stratagem, but really the only plan that the dandy could come up with on the spot.

"I'm not leaving you here. You'll get ground into paste!"

Harry grinned goofily despite the seriousness of the situation and he held his wand in front of him in an exaggerated pose. He had just learned the beginnings of proper dueling from Lucius earlier that day and would now be putting his fledgling skills to the real test far sooner than he would ever have imagined. He found himself wondering what Gilderoy Lockhart would have done in a situation like this.

"Please, I took down a Dark Lord. A few trolls are easy work for me. Now run. _Stupefy!"_

Harry's Stunner flew forth and hit the Mountain Troll in the stomach, sending it staggering back against the corridor wall. The spell had little noticeable effect. Harry's magical strength had been augmented by his rage in his brief encounter with the headmaster, but he had no such boost here. Attacking one troll seemed to anger both, and the young prodigy was forced to dodge a vicious swing of the River Troll's club as the other regained its bearings. His reflexes were becoming quicker due to his training with Lucius and he was able to regain the initiative through banishing the blue troll into its gray cohort with an irritated flick of his wand, sending both crashing into the wall again. Draco took advantage of the opening to make his planned escape. Both trolls were upright and fully incensed mere moments later. Harry could have fled as well, but remained due to the fear that others might suffer harm should he leave the two enraged creatures to rampage freely. Such a turn of events would see heroic prestige compromised, his celebrated name besmirched. That and he would sooner die than risk a girl being injured on his account.

_"Incarcerous."_

Magical ropes quickly bound the River Troll, sending it crashing back down to the stone floor with a loud thud. The other beast took a swipe at Harry's skull with its club with a speed and tenacity that caught the boy wonder off his guard. His head was spared but the club impacted with his bejeweled coronet, sending the gaudy headpiece flying down the corridor. Harry's sloppily arranged hair now streamed freely behind him. Losing his ridiculous adornment caused the faintest glimmer of the red aura to appear around his form. The dandy young wizard frowned and glared balefully at the menacing troll before screeched out his reaction.

"You ruined my coronet! I'll kill you, filthy beast! _Syre Petrol! Incendio!"_

Naturally, the spraying of crude oil followed by a fireball yielded less than pleasant results for the hapless troll. The creature clawed in vain at itself as its entire body was consumed in raging flames. The Mountain Troll dove onto the stone floor and rolled about helplessly in an instinctive attempt to smother the flames as the acrid stench of burning flesh joined the pair of revolting stenches that already hung in the air. Harry smirked haughtily at his victory as he levitated the discarded club and manipulated it to bludgeon the River Troll repeatedly, the latter having broken free of its restraints. The troll caught the offending object after the fourth stroke and tossed it aside, charging at Harry with a snarl. This time the young prodigy was prepared, transfiguring the stone floor into solid ice with a lazy wave of his wand. The River Troll lacked the clawed feet that its counterpart possessed and slipped immediately, falling onto the still burning Mountain Troll.

"I think it's about time to end this conflict, with elegance worthy of one such as myself."

Harry waved his wand with several complicated motions, causing enormous vines to burst from the walls, floor and ceiling of the dungeon battleground. They were over six inches thick and as strong as solid steel, coiling around the two trolls and lifting them several inches off the ground. Both creatures struggled without effect, choking and rasping as the vines wrapped around their necks. One both were completely immobilized, Harry motioned with his wand again, causing hundreds of perfect red roses to blossom on the vines. Their magically enhanced fragrance wafted throughout the entire corridor, overpowering the foul odors spread by the trolls. Harry inhaled the sweet aroma before smiling at the helpless beasts.

"Ah, beauty always emerges triumphant. But be warned, the sweetest roses often bear the sharpest thorns."

Harry jabbed with his wand one final time. Extremely sharp thorns grew outward from the vines, piercing the resistant hides of the two beasts with minor difficulty. Green became splotched with crimson as the two creatures' blood spilled over the vines and dripped onto the floor. The trolls howled in anguish, but received little sympathy from their captor. After all, Harry thought, such hideous beings had no right to stand in the presence of his beauty and grace, defiling the grounds upon which countless sweet young maidens lived and studied under his protection. And they had destroyed his coronet.

"And not as much as a stain on my robes. A perfect victory if ever there was one."

Harry took a step back into the corridor, taking a moment to admire his handiwork. He could hear voices and footsteps approaching. The trolls were now ceasing their resistance, be it either from loss of blood or a sense of futility. Harry thought his transfigured flowers to be the most gorgeous and fragrant that he had ever seen. His anger had so enhanced the potency of his magic, bearing the sweetest of fruit. He was filled with the desire to fill the entire dingy castle with these rose blossoms. He summoned his broken coronet and examined it momentarily. Several of the gemstones were cracked and scratched. Even if he were to repair it somehow, it would never regain its former luster.

"Mister Potter!"

Harry occupied himself with meticulously cutting roses from the vine with his wand upon hearing Professor McGonagall's voice. He would never condescend to do such things himself on most occasions, but decided to take several dozen of these perfect flowers with him to give out as presents. He unintentionally kept the professors waiting as he worked as several Slytherin students trying to get back to their common room gaped at the defeated trolls, Malfoy right out in front. Once he was finished, he conjured a damp cloth to hold them in and transfigured his broken coronet into a gaudy turquoise hat to wear back to Ravenclaw Tower. Its rim extended nearly eighteen inches outward from the top, and a distinctive large peacock feather protruded from the back. Harry affixed it onto his head and turned to the waiting crowd with a generous bow.

"My apologies for the delay, professor, but I've already taken care of your troll problem."

The headmaster was present as well, regarding the situation with a guarded expression. He was looking directly at the blood pooled on the stone floor beneath the trolls. Given his general naiveté, Harry failed to understand why the old man was disappointed with him but felt rather hollow inside all of a sudden nonetheless, as if letting Dumbledore down were some sort of mortal sin. Professors Snape, Flitwick and Quirrell were observing as well, and even the greasy Potions Master seemed visibly impressed with the boy's spellwork, though his eyes betrayed that the unspoken praise was most reluctant.

"That would indeed appear to be the case, my boy. Mister Malfoy has already apprised us of the circumstances. Thirty points to Ravenclaw for remaining calm in a crisis situation as well as risking life and limb in order to protect a classmate."

The headmaster regained his jovial demeanor as he spoke, giving Harry the idea that perhaps the old man had not been upset with him after all. His own ill temper also dissipated, and he readjusted his hat and met Dumbledore's twinkling eyes.

"I'm sorry about the mess, sir. I guess I got a little carried away."

Dumbledore only nodded serenely, as his deputy took it upon herself to reply.

"Do not be apologetic, Potter. Not a soul here or anywhere else would have had you placing your own life in greater jeopardy for the sole sake of protecting a pair of rampaging trolls. Please return to your dormitory. I shall instruct the House Elves to prepare a meal and have it brought to Ravenclaw Tower, seeing as you have unfortunately missed out on the feast."

Harry flashed a saccharine grin and departed with a nod; stopping to offer a rose to every shaken Slytherin girl he passed during the trek out of the dungeons. Most accepted with blushing smiles, testament to the boy's ability to charm even the coldest of hearts. The red rose traditionally held romantic implications. Harry was aware of this fact, though he had no such motives driving his own actions. It was merely his own way of spreading a little cheer. He had considered giving one to Snape. The man's awful black wardrobe was in desperate need of some color. He didn't bother to notice Quirrell watching him with an unreadable expression as he pranced out of sight, blue cape swishing behind him.

* * *

The return journey to Ravenclaw Tower passed without further incident. Most of the students were securely in their dormitories, with only Prefects out patrolling the corridors in groups of three. The trio of his own housemates that he came across didn't contain Penny, so he didn't make an effort to pursue them in order to make conversation. He instead turned to the portrait of the old wandered that marked the entrance to his common room. 

"You've been out fighting trolls, according to the grapevine. Too much bravado can prove fatal, child."

Harry smiled and retorted with equal amusement.

"Oh, you can just go and take some hemlock, Archimedes. Academia."

The living portrait of the great Greek thinker tutted with an indulgent smile, making sure to get in the last word as he moved to allow Harry access. The young dandy had always been a bit curious as to why the painting spoke fluent English. Perhaps the spirit within was able to keep learning after the body's demise.

"That was Socrates, you dissolute little rake. Now begone, your admirers await."

Harry laughed, playfully swatting at the animated face with his transfigured hat as he strolled into the common room. The common room was packed with students, all chatting vigorously about the evening's events. Harry put his hat back on and stepped into the crowd.

"They way you all are going on, one would think there was some sort of monster running loose in the school."

Several heads turned to regard Harry, who stood there with a ridiculous hat atop his head and not so much as a scratch on his body or a spot on his robes. He certainly did not look like a person that had just done battle with a pair of trolls. Su Li stared at him with raised eyebrows.

"Malfoy told us all that you were fighting the troll. It certainly doesn't appear that you've been involved in a combat."

"It's always proper to judge by appearances, Su. But in this instance, said method isn't really so accurate. Draco and I were ambushed by two trolls down in the dungeons, but I defeated them without much effort. Now enough talk about those disgusting things. I've brought something back for you. Here you are, a beautiful rose for a pretty lady."

Harry drew one of his roses out of the cloth bundle in his hands and gave it to Su. The small Chinese girl looked at the flower for a moment before taking it with a gentle smile and grasping his hand with hers.

"It is beautiful. You really are too charming for your own good sometimes, Harry."

"Nonsense, Su. There's no such thing. I don't see Cho or Penny anywhere."

Roger Davies, a third year Chaser on the house Quidditch team, replied from where he sat around a table with several of his teammates. Harry didn't like the boy at all, as he had recently taken to looking at Cho in a way that displeased the young prodigy. Harry tended to guard his veritable monopoly over her affection very jealously, and didn't like it when other filthy males tried to befriend her. He felt them to be unworthy of a sweet person such as her.

"Chang and Clearwater went out looking for you, mate. They hoped you'd gotten away and come back here, and then left to find you once they saw that you hadn't. Nice hat, by the way. The peacock feather suits you."

Several of Davies' friends snickered at his sarcastic tone, but dared not join in. Harry didn't get on very well with the house Quidditch players in general. They were all male aside from Cho, which counted as an immediate strike against them. The broom jocks observed his somewhat effeminate and aristocratic mannerisms with distaste and were visibly jealous due to the fact that he more or less held the attention of most girls in Ravenclaw and elsewhere. All were aware of the power he wielded, though, both with his wand and in connections, and never tested him beyond the occasional backhanded jibe. Common knowledge around Hogwarts by this point was that Harry Potter was under the protection of the chairwizard of both the Board of Governors and the entirety of the dreaded Slytherin House, and was a favorite of several of the professors, and also that he was by far the most powerful young sorcerer of the age. The few who disliked him were powerless against him, and were therefore very careful not to provoke his wrath openly. Harry sneered back at the Quidditch player and casually flicked a rose into his lap.

"Why thank you, Davies. My sense of fashion is indeed beyond reproach. Now ground that over your body so you might not stink like mud and sweat so much, pig. Your odor is every bit as foul as that troll stench back in the dungeons."

Most of the girls in the common room giggled and pinched their noses mockingly. Davies and several of his friends bristled with anger and humiliation, but dared not push the issue. Harry was about to plop down onto a sofa between Su and Padma Patil when a familiar voice sang out from behind him.

"Harry James Potter, I sincerely hope you didn't just insinuate that all Quidditch players are smelly and have the brain power of Mountain Trolls."

Harry rolled his head backwards to look into Cho's amused black eyes. She too had changed dramatically over the past several months. Gone was the shy little girl who would never speak her mind in a crowded room for fear of being verbally spat on. Pretty and intelligent, soft-spoken and a brilliant Quidditch player, she was now becoming quite universally admired within Ravenclaw House. She was standing directly behind him, and his oversized turquoise hat slipped from his head and fell into hers, obscuring the lower half of her face.

"Of course not, Cho. I was only referring to male broom jockeys such as those apes."

She quirked a smile, taking the hat off of her head and placing it back onto his. The angle was completely crooked, but he allowed it to remain that way.

"You had us really scared, you know. Quirrell came into the Great Hall screaming about a troll in the dungeons, and then Malfoy comes along five seconds later ranting about there being two and that you were embroiled in a fight with both of them. Penny and I got to see how badly you beat them, but you really should have just left it to the teachers."

Harry would have snapped at most people for having the audacity to lecture him. He was special in his reckoning, and the rules that governed everybody else did not really apply to him. Instead of being angry, however, his fancy was touched by the fact that she obviously cared so much for his well-being. He crowed wordlessly at Roger Davies through his shining emerald eyes, as the Quidditch jock was quite disgruntled with the sight of Cho fawning over Harry.

"I'll remember that next time. But I'm fine, really. Those trolls were nothing."

"A package came for you during the feast, handsome. We placed it on the bed for you."

Harry glanced over to Penny, and the two shared a significant look. He had sulked for a week or so over her rejection of his rather clumsy and thoughtless advances, but eventually came to miss her and make an effort to patch things up. He had eventually asked her to procure a catalog from Quality Quidditch Supplies while on a Hogsmeade visit, intending to buy Cho a new broomstick to replace her outmoded Comet Two-Sixty. She had offered him advice on which model was the best, being something of a Quidditch buff herself despite the fact that she didn't play. In his usual fashion, however, he just sent a letter ordering them to send him the absolute best broom available and charge the bill to the Potter family account at Gringotts. The Diagon Alley shop responded with a note stating that they would be sending an experimental model broom dubbed the "Firebolt," one that was designed for professional use and not due for any sort of release for another two years. Harry gloated inwardly at the thought of the clout that his name carried. Not even Draco's father could have gotten that sort of preferential treatment.

"Excellent, right on schedule. It's a shame the feast was interrupted, though. I was rather banking on a public viewing."

"I wasn't aware that you had ordered anything…"

Harry grinned at Cho's suspicious tone and strolled towards his private quarters located at the far end of the common room. Cho followed behind as Penny kept a handle on those curious housemates aiming on getting a view of whatever Harry had been going on about. Her pretty eyes widened a bit upon seeing the shape of the parcel. A more astute judge would have deduced that she had already guessed who the item was intended for, but naive Harry took her chiding literally.

"You told me that you hated flying. Besides, you're not supposed to have a broomstick."

Harry pouted for a second and flipped his hair before smiling.

"I didn't buy it for myself, so I'm quite safe. Go ahead then, open it."

She unwrapped the broomstick and took a long look at it, as Harry quickly summoned the invoice and hid it in his robes. The price was of no whatsoever concern to the young dandy, but it would have certainly been an issue for her. It had been very expensive, on the order of almost four thousand Galleons. Harry glanced over at his friend and noticed that she was nearly in shock. She finally spoke up after about a minute.

"Harry, this is an international standard level broom. This model isn't due for release for close to two years, even to professional teams. It must have cost you an absolute fortune. I can't accept it. It's simply too much."

Harry frowned deeply and withdrew the invoice from his robes, burning it to ashes with a quick stab of his bamboo wand.

"It's remarkably poor taste to comment on the price of a gift, you know. At any rate, I've just torched the receipt, so I suppose you're left with no alternative but to keep it. Please don't worry about the cost, but I'm going to take it as a personal insult if you reject it again."

He watched as she nodded and placed her new broomstick on top of the room's large mahogany table almost reverently, as if allowing the slightest scratch on its surface were some sort of crime. Harry then staggered back onto the bed as Cho threw herself into him and buried her face into his neck. He could feel her warm tears on his skin as they dripped down onto the fabric of his dress robes. He couldn't understand why she was crying.

"You're…always so good to me. I don't deserve somebody like you."

He just held her and allowed himself to slowly caress her silky black hair with the full length of his fingers. He began to notice things about her that he hadn't before, such as the fact that her skin was almost impossibly smooth and smelled like an odd yet positively intoxicating mixture of espresso and papaya. Her eyes were bottomless liquid pools of pure molten obsidian, twin lakes that he could almost drown in. And then she leaned up and slid her lips over his. It was a very short and chaste kiss, but Harry didn't quite know what to make of it, especially that distinct jolt of electricity that shot through his system on contact. Cho Chang's lips tasted strongly of kiwi. The eleven year old wizard was too young by far to really understand such matters beyond his own foolish fancies. He did not sleep well that night, being too absorbed in his own musings.

* * *

Harry James Potter hated being outside. He absolutely despised it, especially in conditions the likes of which marred Ravenclaw's first match of the Quidditch season. It was now the end of November, and the young dandy would be making his long awaited return to his grandmother's estate for the Yule Holidays in a few short weeks. Despite the snow falling vigorously outside the castle, virtually the entire school turned up to see the match. Harry was bundled up in his thick winter robes, a black shroud that he would not have possessed had Narcissa Malfoy not seen fit to send him a set in the post two weeks prior. He would much prefer to be inside, curled around the fire in the Ravenclaw common room with aLockhart book. However, he had promised Cho that he would come and watch her play, and so here he was. 

He stood right on the far edge of the Ravenclaw section, at the border of the Slytherin zone of the bleachers. Draco and his friends sat to the left side of the young wizard, and Penny to his direct right. Harry himself sat under a huge yellow parasol emblazoned with pink and green butterflies that moved about on the fabric. He was certainly not going to allow the snow to ruin his hair, which was arranged carefully and topped with his turquoise peacock feather hat. The oversized umbrella made it difficult for those standing directly behind Harry to see, but the young prodigy certainly couldn't have cared less about such a mundane concept as that.

He felt a familiar warmth as Penny took his hand. He was now distinctly confused about his feeling for the pretty Prefect. He certainly cared about her as a friend and potentially much more, but was starting to think about a certain Seeker in a similar fashion also. That one little kiss on Halloween night had altered his thoughts on Cho significantly. She had been a good friend and almost a little sister of sorts despite being a year older for those first few months at Hogwarts. Now he couldn't help but wonder about perhaps seeing her as something else. Penny could make his very soul burn out of sheer desire and need with a single touch, but something about Cho made his insides tingle with an inner lightning.

**"…and Chang! Now this pretty new face is flying on an experimental model broomstick, which my sources have confirmed to be a personal gift from the enigmatic Harry Potter. Seems like love is in the air…"**

Harry snapped out of his musing at hearing Cho's last name through Lee Jordan's magically magnified voice. He had missed the introductions for both teams due to his daydreaming, not that he cared. He was present to support his friend. The outcome of the match itself was irrelevant. He tuned out the irritating Gryffindor commentator as the boy continued lauding Cho's broomstick. Harry felt a hard thump on his left shoulder and turned around with a glare. He found said glare matched by one Marcus Flint, Quidditch Captain for Slytherin. The large Chaser was obviously displeased that Harry had practically handed the cup to Ravenclaw with his recent purchase. Malfoy was muttering in a similar vein to Harry's side.

"Can't believe you bought her a bloody international standard broom."

"I'm quite sure your father will buy you a nice broom too next year."

Harry then ignored Malfoy's tirade and glanced over to where Cho was floating in the air waiting for the match to start. Lined up opposite her was a rather well-built Hufflepuff boy that he vaguely recalled seeing in the corridors on a few occasions. The yellow robed Seeker had a slight flush in his cheeks as he watched Cho intently. Harry had to fight down the urge to hex him clean off of his broomstick. He exhaled sharply as Penny ruffled his hair.

"You look you're about to strangle somebody, handsome."

Harry blurted out his motives without thinking. Penny only seemed amused by his attitude.

"I don't like that Hufflepuff Seeker. He keeps staring at Cho."

"His name's Cedric Diggory. He's in the year below me. Anyway, Cho's growing into a very pretty girl. Blokes are naturally going to start fancying her. It's only going to get much worse as she gets older."

Harry crossed his arms and huffed, sitting down on the plush cushion that he had transfigured for his personal use before coming down to the pitch. That was not what he wanted to hear. One girl that he care for was completely out of his reach and the other now had filthy boys like Roger Davies and Cedric Diggory swarming all over her. He briefly entertained the idea of asking Malfoy Senior to teach him a castration hex sometime over the holidays.

"I'm not going to let any of those pigs touch her. They'll defile her."

Harry had spoken those sentences under his break, though nobody would have paid him any mind regardless. The match was now starting. Davies scored a goal on his first touch of the Quaffle to put Ravenclaw up by ten. Harry felt something buzzing by his ear, but ignored it in favor of watching Cho. Or trying to, at least. She was currently leading Diggory on a feint, but her Firebolt make her seem like little more than a blue blur with a slight hint of black. Harry hoped that she would cause the great oaf Diggory to dive bomb or something. Cedric pulled out in time, much to the young dandy's chagrin, but Ravenclaw had scored another pair of goals.

**"And Diggory takes a Bludger right to the head! That had to hurt!"**

Harry smirked victoriously at the Hufflepuff's torment. Whatever was buzzing him was right on his ear now. He absentmindedly swatted at it with his hand, as a little golden blur passed through his field of vision and back behind his head. Cho meanwhile stopped nearby and was watching him with an amused smile, since the Golden Snitch seemed to be nowhere in sight. Harry took his hat into his hands, determined to make the thing pay the price should it pester him again.

"Shoo, bloody insect!"

The second time the intruding creature brushed his ear, Harry slapped it with his gaudy hat. It staggered, and Harry saw that it was a little winged golden ball. He walloped it again with his hat and watched with a scowl as the annoying bugger flew back down into the air above the playing field. Cho zipped by on her broomstick and grabbed it mere seconds later to win the match. She winked conspiratorially at him and smiled. Harry felt another smack to his shoulder. This time it was a bit painful. Flint had his arms crossed and his teeth bared. He looked every bit like an angry troll.

"Well, that was a rather lopsided affair."

Draco was shaking his head at the dismal effort put forth by the Hufflepuffs. Ravenclaw had won the match by a score of one hundred and ninety to zero. Harry's housemates were noisily celebrating, and the young dandy wished that he could be anywhere else. He hated loud noise. He decided to go down and congratulate Cho and then return to the castle. He turned to leave, and met Professor Quirrell's eye as the turbaned stutterer surveyed the crowd. Harry again felt that sharp pain in his forehead that seemed to follow every time the Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor glanced his way during the course of his parody of a class. The shock was much more pronounced this time, and Harry thought he could see a certain hint of malice within the craven teacher's eyes. A sudden vision of hateful red eyes glaring pure death into his soul caused the young aristocrat to stagger and fall backward into Malfoy.

"Sorry, Draco. Just slipped, is all."

Draco nodded and made nothing of it. Harry shook his head to clear the malevolent image from his mind.

"You don't look so hot, handsome."

Harry turned to Penny with a slight grimace, meeting the Prefect's concerned face.

"It's nothing to worry about. I'm going back to the castle. The cold is unbearable."

Harry walked down from the stands and made his way back to the castle alone. Those pitiless red eyes would come to haunt him at night even several years into the future.

(End Chapter Eight)

**Author's Note: It's been almost two months, I know. I was originally planning to scrap this story, but a recent outpouring of support for it had prompted me to continue. I hope this update was satisfactory for you folks, because I wasn't pleased with it. It feels like I've just sort of lost the magic behind Harry's character in this work. I also felt that it dragged near the end a bit, and I probably won't do any more Quidditch matches in any sort of detail. The pairing is still very much in the air. I may introduce a seventh year Tonks into the story in the next few chapters as well, as Harry becomes curious about the possibility of having Metamorphmagus abilities. Next chapter will have Harry leaving for the holidays, which will probably take two full updates because of a myriad of things I want to do over Yule.**

**Read and review, as usual. The more feedback I get, the less likely there will be this kind of delay on the next update.**


	10. Knockturn Alley

_Draco was shaking his head at the dismal effort put forth by the Hufflepuffs. Ravenclaw had won the match by a score of 190-0. Harry's housemates were noisily celebrating, and the young dandy wished that he could be anywhere else. He hated loud noise. He decided to go down and congratulate Cho and then return to the castle. He turned to leave, and met Professor Quirrell's eye as the turbaned stutterer surveyed the crowd. Harry again felt that sharp pain in his forehead that seemed to follow every time the Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor glanced his way during the course of his parody of a class. The shock was much more pronounced this time, and Harry thought he could see a certain hint of malice within the craven teacher's eyes. A sudden vision of hateful red eyes glaring pure death into his soul caused the young aristocrat to stagger and fall backward into Malfoy._

_"Sorry, Draco. Just slipped, is all."_

_Draco nodded and made nothing of it. Harry shook his head to clear the malevolent image from his mind._

_"You don't look so hot, handsome."_

_Harry turned to Penny with a slight grimace, meeting the Prefect's concerned face._

_"It's nothing to worry about. I'm going back to the castle. The cold is unbearable."_

_Harry walked down from the stands and made his way back to the castle alone. Those pitiless red eyes would come to haunt him at night even several years into the future._

**Chapter Nine: Strolling With Serpents Redux - Welcome to Knockturn Alley**

Disclaimer: If you've seen it before, it belongs to J.K. Rowling. Otherwise, it's mine. Naturally, I'm making no money off this. Am I the only one that finds these things to be extremely repetitive and pointless?

* * *

Less than two days remained until Christmas as Harry strolled towards Hogsmeade Station alongside his friends from Ravenclaw. He would not be taking the train back to London with them, however. Instead, he would be traveling directly to Diagon Alley with the Malfoys in order to conduct his holiday shopping. He had been rather irritated upon discovering that the fall term didn't let out until the twenty-third. The restrictive scheduling meant that he would be quite unable to call on friends until the next several days had passed. To drop in and interrupt a time meant for family togetherness would be hideously uncouth, after all. He did miss his own home as well, though, and wanted to spend as much time with his grandmother and the girls as possible, so the situation wasn't truly all that regrettable. That he believed sending presents through owl post to be rather droll and impersonal constituted his only real complaint. He would be much happier spreading some Christmas cheer in person. 

He was again wearing thick his black winter robes and turquoise peacock feather hat. The falling snow blanketed the freezing December morning air, though not in the minor blizzard that had plagued the earlier Quidditch match. Harry's parasol would prove too great an encumbrance to be carried throughout the day, and so the young dandy had opted to charm his clothing to both repel the snow and keep him warm and snug. He resolved to make the effort to procure more suitable winter apparel whilst conducting his primary business in the alleys. His current robes were satisfactory in a purely functional sense, but were an aesthetic disaster. Pure black was such a bland and unimaginative color. The robes made him look much too similar to Professor Snape. He was already tall and pale and had lengthy black hair. He certainly didn't need similar clothing to augment the most unwanted resemblance. The small group reached the train station, located between the castle and Hogsmeade village. Students were already streaming into the docked Hogwarts Express. Harry said his goodbyes and expressed his holiday wishes in succession, and received the same in return accompanied by several hugs. He was then alone with his most special friend.

"I'll send you an owl right when I get home. I'd really like to have you over to our estate sometime during the holidays."

Cho eyes shined with warmth. Harry thought that she might have smiled, but the woolen scarf covering her face made the gesture impossible to see. Only her eyes were visible. The garment covering her mouth muffled her voice but he could still detect the singsong tone.

"So the Boy-Who-Lived is inviting me home to meet the family. I'm sure to be every girl's envy after this."

Harry shrugged lazily and responded in his own teasing voice.

"I would think just a small majority. I can't quite yet lay claim to having enchanted all the world's beauties. Allow me a couple more years or so."

"It's really too bad you won't be riding home on the train with us. I wanted to introduce you to my family at the station too. Properly, I mean. My parents didn't even get your name when you visited the shop back during the summer and my little brother would almost die to meet you. He's always been huge on your superhero status."

Harry wasn't too particularly enthralled with being hero-worshipped despite his sizable ego. Exasperating bints such as noisy Lisa Turpin and that homely little Weasley girl tended to sour him on the notion. His most precious people were able to see through all that savior mess. Besides, he still held to his thinking that being praised for his own natural charm and elegant refinement was much superior to being hailed as a savior. He then heard some person audibly clearing his or her throat from behind him and inclined his head to glimpse a scowling Draco Malfoy standing there with his arms crossed.

"Father's already waiting in the village. Let's get moving before he gets impatient."

Harry let out a theatrical sigh and nodded.

"I suppose there's just no help for it. I'll see you again within the week, I promise."

"Have a nice holiday, Harry."

Harry grinned as he reached down and lifted her snow cap up from her forehead before leaning in to place a gentle kiss on her hairline. Her skin was warm despite the freezing cold outside and her hair smelled like shampoo. He then hugged her for a moment before leaving with Draco, oblivious to her blushing face. The junior Malfoy had watched the exchange with disgust written all over his pointed features, and presently withdrew a medium-sized flask from his expensive winter robes and tossed it to his eccentric friend. Harry looked at it for a moment and then glanced at his companion with confusion.

"It's leftover apple juice from breakfast. Drink it and swish that egg roll stench from your mouth."

Harry scowled and flung it back at him. Draco ducked with a sneer and the glass container shattered on the ground before a Gryffindor party. Harry paid them no mind as he stomped away towards the village, rather exasperated with his friend's racist inclinations. His ill temper passed quickly enough and he took in the village. Many might find the little thatched cottages to be quaint and inviting, but the environs offended the young prodigy's rather highbrow tastes. The drafty old castle where he attended lessons was less than ideal, but at least overall its bearing was properly suited to one with his breeding. This peasant hovel was wholly unacceptable, only slightly better than the smog-ridden steel cesspool that was metropolitan London.

"This architecture is so plebeian. Malfoy, let's look out for stray horse manure."

"Father's letter said that he'd be outside Dervish & Banges."

The Hogsmeade apothecary stood across the village near the rear. Some local wizards and witches conducted their own late shopping at the small businesses that littered the main street running through the small town. Lucius Malfoy indeed stood outside the potions shop and was engaged in a rather terse conversation with Professor Severus Snape.

"…The boy has some potential, Lucius, but lacks any enthusiasm for…"

"…And I suppose your confrontational teaching methods have nothing to do with..."

"…I refuse to give him preferential treatment…"

"…I simply demand that you relinquish your pathetic childhood…"

Harry and Draco looked at one another with raised eyebrows as they reached the pair. Lucius immediately ceased his ranting at the hapless Potions Master and gave them his full attention.

"Ah, there you boys are. Professor Snape and I were just now discussing your midterm marks. Let us be on our way quickly. We've only until roughly the noon hour before the school train arrives in London and the alleys become swamped with other shoppers, and we should be well-served to preempt the common hordes as much as possible. You may depart for now, Severus. We shall certainly resume this conversation later."

Snape gritted his yellowed teeth as he responded.

"I expect no less, Mister Malfoy. Have a…most…pleasant…holiday…boys."

A more astute person might have picked up on the sheer venom in the greasy professor's silky voice. Harry simply nodded with a grin and turned his attention to the two Malfoys. All three wizards were dressed nearly identically, with Harry's colorful hat and the elder's serpent-headed cane being the only differences among them. Lucius reached quietly into his robes and withdrew a small scepter heralded with the Malfoy family crest.

"This will be our Portkey for today's excursion. We will appear just outside the clothier."

Harry naturally knew what a Portkey was but had never traveled via one. The process to make one was complicated and illegal without Ministry authorization. The latter didn't concern the young wizard, as conventional laws applied only to mundane citizens and not to enlightened caricatures such as him. His current books contained no directions to help him in experimenting with the procedure. Perhaps he could ask Lucius to show him later. He gently grabbed the ornate scepter's handle in synch with the others and felt a sickening tug behind his navel as Hogsmeade waned into nothingness before his eyes.

The aristocratic trio materialized in Diagon Alley at the entrance to Madam Malkin's. Harry landed gracefully on his feet, as it certainly wouldn't have done at all for him to lose his balance and fall like some common klutz. Draco wasn't quite as nimble and had to grasp onto Harry's robes to support his body, earning a disapproving glance from his father. The elder Malfoy returned the Portkey scepter to his robes and gazed about the alley whilst absorbed in apparent thought.

"A few hours should be sufficient. We'll get Harry fitted for his formal robes first and then peruse theusual shops until lunch."

Harry scrunched his face in confusion.

"I wasn't aware that I had needed formal robes for anything, sir."

"I meant to inform you today that you've been requested to attend the New Year's gala held annually at the Ministry of Magic. It is most unprecedented for one your age to receive an invitation. Propriety naturally demands that you accept. Our secluded magical world has been most excited about your recent return and society's elite wishes see you in person."

Harry almost could have pouted. He so despised stuffy formal events but the stern tone in Lucius Malfoy's voice made clear that his presence at the ball was both expected and mandatory. His grandmother would entreat him to attend and meet people anyway. Social obligations helped constitute the enormous burden that came alongside celebrity. He had little choice other than to accept his gruesome destiny with his trademark dramatic sigh.

"All right then. I'll have to make sure I'm the most enchanting person there."

Thinking more about the ball, Harry wasn't so annoyed about having to attend. It would grant him a marvelous opportunity to grandstand, seeing as it would be his public unveiling as it were. Besides, the ballroom dance was a refined art in its own right and one that he hadn't as yet had a real chance to broadcast his skill in. He hoped there would be some attractive girls present at the very least. An evening spent rubbing elbows with revolting men wasn't a prospect that he relished. Draco's drawling voice ended those unpleasant thoughts.

"I don't see mother anywhere. She usually adores holiday shopping."

The elder Malfoy's response was tinged with annoyance.

"She is most preoccupied with preparing the manor for our guests and will be joining us for lunch."

Harry didn't understand, but ventured to question in his usual tactless manner.

"Nobody told me you all were hosting a Chirstmas party. I do hope I'm invited."

Lucius chuckled ruefully as he led the small party away from Madam Malkin's. Harry followed obediently behind, naturally assuming that they were headed to Gringotts. He had little money left over from his pre-term withdrawal anyway and also wanted to explore his real vault.

"Nothing quite so festive, I'm afraid. We're to be playing host to an extended family gathering. Our overseas relations will be converging en masseupon our Wiltshire manse at suppertime Christmas evening. After that will follow an entire week filled with clan politics and the requisite backstabbing. There will be little yuletide cheer and holiday celebration about Malfoy Manor this season. I quite frankly abhor these little occasions. Some overzealous twit always endeavors to usurp my position atop the family hierarchy."

Harry furrowed his brow as they walked right past by the bank. He wasn't paying much attention to his location, instead pondering what Lucius had said. Some shoppers pointed and gawked at him as he trudged along, the feather on his gaudy hat swishing in time with his plaited hair. He had no visible scar so obviously his overall likeness had become common knowledge. Harry found the idea most pleasant.

"I hadn't thought anybody could up and take one's status like that."

Draco piped in his two Knuts' worth, pleased to be able to expound on the subject.

"It's not that simple, really. Any attempt always comes down to a proper wizard's duel."

"Our relations serve to amuse me more than anything else. The Malfoy family originates from that queer little nation across the Channel. Great Atlantis shall rise up from its undersea tomb long before Lucius Malfoy loses a duel to some bloody Frenchman. The clan's English branch acquired the lordship nearly six centuries ago and has not once relinquished it since. The last would-be claimant fell in the third spell exchange."

Any further questioning was immediately postponed when Lucius came to a halt outside another clothier's establishment. This locale was in Diagon Alley's upscale sector near the restaurant where Harry had taken lunch during his initial foray into wizarding London. He didn't like the shop very much judging from the view through the window. Twillfit and Tatting's seemed to offer a more austere and unimaginative selection than Madam Malkin's even though the workmanship and materials used were superior in quality. He then realized that they hadn't stopped in the bank.

"I needed to go to the bank, sir. I don't have very much gold on hand."

Lucius simply waved a gloved hand dismissively.

"Then today shall mark your introduction to a time-honored practice among the old families. Request a personal note when making your purchase and allow the shopkeepers to charge your Gringotts account directly. Allow the goblins to concern themselves with managing your assets and finances.Such matters are all their petty little minds are good for anyway. You need never be concerned with your gold aside from deciding where to invest it. Now let's proceed."

Harry was a bit torn. One the one hand, the practice seemed a bit dishonest. But on the other, it would guarantee that he didn't have to deal in the entire mundane mercantile process and would need never bother with thinking about finances. After all, such worldly interests were beneath his intellectual standard and were base and crude. He eventually shrugged his lithe shoulders and led the way into the boring tailor's shop.

* * *

Several busy holiday shopping hours later, Harry was seated for lunch at the same restaurant he had glimpsed earlier in the day and eaten at several months prior. Mrs. Malfoy had already been waiting at their reserved table. The raven-haired prodigy noticed her somewhat tired expression, but thought her to still be as elegant and attractive as ever. She brightened visibly upon noticing her husband and son, and Harry also. 

"Good afternoon, boys. I do hope your shopping has gone well."

Harry started to mentally inventory his purchases as Draco replied with a smile.

"Very well, mother. We've managed to beat all the Hogwarts Express crowds."

He had bought several items at Flourish and Blotts, especially books and specialty quills as gifts to his friends and study partners in Ravenclaw. He had purchased various pricey little trinkets for his Slytherin acquaintances. He did these largely without much thought as he preferred to save his originality for his family and closer girlfriends. For his attendants back home he had popped into Madam Malkin's and purchased some casual witches' apparel. He had paid little attention to dress sizes, relying upon his own ability to magically resize them to fit properly later, and had instead just bought what he thought best suited each individual girl. He purchased matching adornments at the nearby jewelry store in addition. He bought his grandmother a dress and hat with a matching handbag. The headpiece was topped with a large stuffed vulture. He vaguely recalled seeing something similar being worn by a guest at the estate once. The whole set just seemed to be something the old lady would enjoy wearing.

"I can see you've bought yourself a new ring, Harry."

Harry glanced up at being addressed by Narcissa Malfoy and nodded with a smile.

"I saw it on display at the jeweler's this morning and just had to have it."

He took a proud look at his new ring. It was a gorgeous piece, a solid golden band encrusted with several slim rectangular cut stones all placed in exact symmetry. A red ruby started the array on the left, followed by a green emerald, a yellow topaz, a blue sapphire, a resplendent clear white diamond, a violet amethyst, and finally a pure cut black opal. It was an expensive piece, priced at several hundred Galleons, but Harry couldn't stand thinking about such a perfect rainbow adorning any hand other than his own. The precious gems glittered in the dimly lit restaurant.

He had also bought a very expensive necklace as a gift for Cho, but would need to deliver that in person later. Harry surmised that her family likely didn't celebrate Chirstmas at home given that her parents were first generation immigrants from China, and thus to sent her a holiday gift would just embarrass her. Tactless as he was in some matter, Harry understood cultural disparities quite well, even though said conventions disgusted him. Such knowledge came naturally with reading such varied literature as he did and he had to act in accordance so as to show her due respect. He could just hand the necklace to her in secret upon having her over after Christmas and call it a personal gift. His final extravagant purchase at the jeweler's had been a platinum bracelet inlaid with small emeralds for Penny. He had spent exorbitantly on his holiday gifts in the end, but not really on a much grander scale than what he had observed Draco doing. It really was a game with the two friends, each vying to one-up the other using money that they had never lifted a single finger to earn. Harry felt that he had superior taste at the least.

"Only you would buy a Christmas gift for yourself, Potter."

Harry just looked askance at Draco.

"But any other ugly buffoon could never do justice to such a masterpiece. I'm the only one able to bring out its proper splendor."

"It's absolutely gauche, just like that hideous hat you can't seem to stop wearing."

Harry crossed his arms and glared.

"Be silent, philistine. You know nothing about aesthetics and your hair is a disgrace."

Lucius Malfoy's dangerous whisper brought the escalating argument to a close.

"That will be quite enough, boys. Remember that we are in public and do not bring disgrace to your blood by acting like imbeciles."

Harry disliked being lectured but sulkily held his tongue while Draco just murmured assent in a cowed tone. The waiter presently arrived with their drinks. Harry was surprisingly permitted to have an absinthe. Lucius had stipulated that a young man mature enough to wear his family's legacy ring should be allowed to have a proper drink with his meal and his tone had permitted the waiter no room to argue. Draco got the same as a special treat. Narcissa's demeanor showed disapproval but she dared not gainsay her husband in public. The emerald green liquor matched Harry's eyes almost perfectly. He thought the taste rather bitter upon imbibing but still did his best to drain the small glass. A quick charm afterwards negated the resulting intoxication, and Lucius then withdrew two parchment documents from his robes. His wife was the first to recognize them.

"Those must be the boys' midterm marks."

"Indeed they are. Draco is performing at or very near the Outstanding level in all his subjects. His instructors universally praise him for his attentiveness and dedication in the classroom. Son, you are making satisfactory progress, but I still expect to see you making that extra push to cross over the line in every course during the spring term…"

The younger Malfoy made no verbal reply as he looked over his marks and then passed Harry the parchment. The latter brushed a stray lock from his forehead and sipped his water as he glanced at the sheet. Draco's marks were more or less universally situated near the line separating Exceeds Expectations and Outstanding. He was slightly above in most cases and just below in Transfiguration and History of Magic. Harry thought the pale boy's overall performance to be decent, but he was a most diligent student despite all his aristocratic posturing. And on the other hand…

"…Mister Potter's marks meanwhile are rather inconsistent. On the positive end, his Charms and Transfiguration scores are both beyond impeccable, placing him easily above the second years. Both respective professors have requested me to inform him that they would like him to take the OWL exams at year's end with the fifth years in order to more accurately measure his aptitude. This is a rare opportunity that I had best not see you decline, young man."

That was certainly happy news. Harry was bored to tears in his current classes, so the opportunity to take and pass the standardized examination was most welcome. Perhaps he might even learn something in the advanced NEWT courses. He could hardly wait to boast to his grandmother back home about this unprecedented development. He would possibly be the youngest student ever to take even one OWL, much less two, and would make certain to rub it in Granger's bushy-maned face as soon as he next saw her.

"I think I'll take the exams, then. I need something to keep me occupied, after all."

Harry didn't have long to revel in his good fortune as Lucius continued. He passed a moment wondering how the man had gotten access to his grades, but finally attributed it to his membership on the school's governing board.

"...For all your shining accomplishments, there are some glaring issues as well. You are barely holding at an Acceptable in Herbology and not faring much better in Potions. You also fall below the Outstanding level in both Astronomy and Defense Against the Dark Arts. These instructor comments indicate that you exert minimal effort in courses that do not emphasize direct spellwork. This attitude will not continue in the spring."

Harry treated this admonishment with general apathy and did not intend to change his ways. More often than not he complied with his aristocratic fencing master's directions without any complaint, but his education was a whole different matter. Harry had his own opinions as to what he considered important to learn, and would not accept being told what to do with his brilliant mind.

"I did not enroll at Hogwarts to waste my time in courses about mixing beverages and tending gardens. Back at my family's estate we have servants to handle tasks such as those. I attend a wizard's school in order to learn proper magic and refine my repertoire. My extraordinary talents are wasted in a dirty greenhouse and my overbearing charm is ruined by a noxious laboratory. I simply cannot agree with you, sir."

Lucius stared at Harry for a long moment before nodding curtly, but with a slight glimmer in his normally cold eyes. Narcissa seemed likewise impressed and Draco rather incredulous that his friend had actually talked back to the elder Malfoy.

"Very well, then. I am impressed with your sudden conviction, but my decision remains unchanged. You cannot shirk your responsibilities simply because you hold them in contempt. Now I wish to discuss a certain disquieting detail that I have discovered regarding your overall rankings. I demand to know how it is that a little Gryffindor girl with no proper wizarding heritage and no exposure to magic prior to Hogwarts has managed to surpass two celebrated purebloods heirs in the classroom."

"It's only because she literally memorizes the textbooks, father."

Harry chimed in his agreement. He wasn't very pleased with the thinly veiled racist comments that the elder Malfoy had uttered, but neither was he about to leap up and defend Hermione Granger. He would just stir the proverbial cauldron a bit more.

"He's telling the truth, sir. Granger spends all her leisure time at Hogwarts holed up inside the library memorizing textbooks and class notes. But she's really only suited to basic regurgitation. Granger has little ability for independent thinking and understands only what her books and teachers tell her. Loftier concepts are quite beyond her and so she really is nothing to be concerned with. Her limitations will manifest in the advanced courses when applied thought is more important than the lecture topics themselves."

Narcissa arched a perfect eyebrow.

"Surely such an obsessively studious girl should have been Sorted into Ravenclaw."

Harry couldn't help making a rather ungentlemanly snort. Hermione had become extremely disliked among the first year Ravenclaws over the fall's course. The girl was exceedingly smug and arrogant in the classroom despite her limited mental scope. Eventually she was going to annoy somebody one time too many and then she would by properly exposed for what she was: a large crawfish in a mud puddle. Being the cleverest witch in Gryffindor House was hardly anything to boast about.

"Perish the thought, Mrs. Malfoy. We Ravenclaws pride ourselves as being true intellectuals. We learn multiple languages and read real literature and independent histories and philosophy. Our common room's inbuilt library contains nary a book about the school curriculum. We feel that expanding one's mind is much more important than acing the test. A grasping and narrow-minded creature like Granger belongs no more in Ravenclaw than a Weasley would in Slytherin. We'd have immediately nicked her schoolbooks and made her read something interesting."

Lucius seemed convinced, though his countenance gave away nothing.

"Assuming all is as just you two report, I shall concern myself no further with this girl."

Lunch remained a largely silent affair from that point on. The Malfoys ordered what amounted to a proper English holiday meal complete with rib roast and Yorkshire pudding. Narcissa had expressed a wish to indulge in proper domestic cuisine while she could due to being forced by propriety to serve French foods at the manor while her husband's relations were visiting. Harry had only a salad, having no desire to suffer through more heavy foods like those served during mealtimes at Hogwarts. Only his frequent care packages from home had spared him from a vastly premature coronary. Lucius spoke up once again when the meal had concluded.

"Draco, you are tto return home with your mother while I deliver Mister Potter to his estate and then attend to business at the Ministry. I intend to see several key measures pushed through the Wizengamot during the annum's last session this afternoon."

"We'll see you in a week's time at the formal, Harry dear."

Harry stood up and stretched as mother and son departed the restaurant, leaving him with Lucius. The pallid aristocrat wasted little time in standing as well, beckoning Harry outside into the now bustling alleyway.

"Come, Mister Potter. We have one last little errand to run this afternoon. Shrink your packages and conceal them."

Harry obeyed blindly, not having any clue as to what Lucius was talking about. Diagon Alley was crowded with shoppers now that the Hogwarts Express had come and gone. He spied several acquaintances but had no time to stop and say hello due to being forced to match his chaperone's brisk pace. He made a quick sprint to catch up with the man.

"I thought you had to go to the Ministry this afternoon, sir."

"The Wizengamot has already adjourned for the year. I simply required a valid excuse to foist Draco onto Narcissa."

Harry kept walking without thinking to ask why Lucius didn't want his son along as the latter took a right turn into a dingy smaller alleyway upon passing by Gringotts. Harry very well thought that they had traipsed into purgatory. This new place personified the negative images regarding magic in Muggle film and literature. Rundown shops sold various sinister and dangerous items ranging from shrunken heads to poisonous candles to restricted and illegal tomes and potions. Harry paled upon seeing a haggard crone peddling animal parts on a tarnished silver plate.

"I don't like this place at all, Mister Malfoy.

Lucius replied in a grim tone.

"Nor should you, my boy. Welcome to Knockturn Alley. Merely a decade ago the slum you see before you was a prosperous commercial sector that catered to Lord Voldemort's supporters. That stigma held firm after his downfall and now you'd be hard pressed to come across a more wretched breeding ground for vice and squalor. Despite its undesirable appearance there are wares and services available here that cannot be procured elsewhere. Do not ever think to venture here unchaperoned. Knockturn Alley is a perilous place to any child and even more so given your particular repute. Former Death Eaters lurk about these streets like shadows."

Harry couldnt agree more with the man's instructions. The alleyway reeked with a maleficent odor that he couldn't even begin to place, but he retched none the less. He also knew what Death Eaters were and that Lucius had once been wrongfully tried as one and acquitted. Natural curiosity had led him to read about the magical guerilla war that had claimed his parents and his interest had increased exponentially after learning about the Prophecy connecting him to Lord Voldemort. But all that was irrelevant. Knockturn Alley was just too disgusting a place for him to ever visit for any reason.

"I don't think I'd come back here with an entire Auror brigade given the choice."

They presently passed by an establishment that looked like a filthy pub. Harry had once thought The Leaky Cauldron to be a rather low-class establishment, but it was the bloody Ritz compared to this dump. Several hideous-looking women were loitering about in scanty fur robes near the entrance despite the cold. A pair leered and smiled through uneven teeth as Harry and Lucius passed by, the latter now outpacing the boy by several steps. He shuddered and kept walking and he drew his winter robes into his body.

"Here we are. I've decided that your fencing training is being hindered by those ancient school practice blades. They are too light and in poor condition. It's time you had your own customized sword designed. My associate here has chosen an unsuitable business site but his smithery is unparalleled."

Harry took a long look at the smith's shop that he had been brought to. It was a small brick building that cropped outward from the alley's wall. The chimney wasn't smoking so the forge was obviously not lit, not that Harry knew anything about such concepts. Lucius had just started to raise his serpent-headed cane to pound on the shop's heavy irconclad door when a boisterous baritone voice rang out behind them.

"Oi, Lucius. Haven't seen you out and about in a while."

The pointed-faced aristocrat stifled a grimace before responding in his usual drawl.

"Avery. My apologies, but I have been quite preoccupied these recent months."

Harry tried to remain inconspicuous, having little desire to participate in the looming conversation. His colorful hat stood out like a hippogriff in the corridor, but the man named Avery didn't seem to be paying him any mind. Avery was a somewhat heavyset individual, balding and dressed in black winter robes much less expensive than the Malfoy variety. He lacked a signet ring which indicated that he was not from the aristocracy. Avery sneered as he looked up at the smithy's sign.

"A bladesmith…still wastin' your time with all that ruddy sword-swingin' mess, I see. Not me, thank you. I'll take a good wand any day."

Lucius matched Avery's sneer with mocking contempt.

"Indeed, and your dueling skills are so legendary. I recall back in '78 when Arthur Weasley's heifer Stunned you cold in two exchanges at Cornwall. And then there was your initiation raid during which you were sufficiently foolhardy to pick a duel with Sirius Black.Unless my memory fails you passed an entire fortnight laid up on your arse in the infirmary. Quite astounding the things one can remember despite being mired under the Imperius."

"Imperius my bloody arse, Malfoy. Save that crap for somebody that…"

Lucius sighed and pretended to look at his pocket watch in despair.

"My, but look at the time. Much as I'd much love to bandy words with you further I've an urgent appointment to keep. Do have a most pleasant afternoon, Avery. Give my warmest regards to the missus."

Avery opened his mouth to reply, but the nobleman turned and swept into the smithy without further comment. Harry was left alone in the cold with this imbecile Avery. The middle-aged toady stomped towards Diagon Alley proper seemingly without ever even noticing the young wizard at all, grumbling indignant curses as he went. Harry blinked in confusion and strolled into the shop behind Lucius. The platinum-haired man was waiting just inside the entrance lobby.

"Well that was rather interesting."

Lucius let out a dry chuckle.

"My apologies, I certainly didn't anticipate running into that mindless name-dropper."

Harry scoffed and arranged his hat. He could see the small shop in its entirety from his current vantage point. Pure functionality, with nothing for aesthetics at all. Not that he expected anything better from a place in this locale.

"An acquaintance, I presume."

"A former associate who has long since outlived his usefulness. Now he's but an embarrassment and a social eyesore. He was once a Death Eater, likely acquitted only because the Wizengamot thought him too stupid to constitute any threat to society. But enough about him, we have business to conduct. Yaxley!"

Moments after the Malfoy patriarch's call, the proprietor stumbled out from a small enclave in the rear. He was an enormous man, though he still had little on Hagrid. He had long graying blond hair several shades deeper than Lucius's in the places where it still retained color. His body was visibly teeming with muscle underneath worn and frayed work robes. Harry could sense considerable magical force rolling from the man's aura. Nothing on the same order as Dumbledore, but this Yaxley character was significantly more powerfully magical than Lucius.

"Oh, it's you Malfoy. My best customer. Well, let's see what you need repaired now."

"Not maintenance today, Hephaestus. I have a much more interesting and potentiallyrewarding project for you. My young protégé here needs to have a custom blade forged. He has no legacy sword and I shan't have him training on the old Hogwarts blades any longer."

Harry flushed inwardly with pride upon hearing Lucius refer to him as his protégé. The aristocrat had removed his traveling cloak and was seated in a rather nondescript chair in the corner. Yaxley gave Harry an appraising look before beckoning him closer.

"Come on over here, kid. Let's get a better look at you."

Harry looked to Lucius, who nodded. He then walked over to the counter and stood near the hulking wizard. Yaxley took his arm and rolled up his sleeve and examined the developing muscles there. Harry strongly disliked being examined this closely by another man but kept his own counsel.

"…Limber, but with burgeoning strength as well. This looks good…"

Harry remained standing as the man took down some measurements on a nearby parchment. Yaxley then swept over Harry's outstretched arm and body with his wand. Blue eyes widened as the wand began to glow brightly.

"…Incredible magical power also. I'll need to put a core into your blade. Merlin, but you're a real prodigy. No small wonder Lucius seems so keen on you…"

Harry said nothing, but Lucius spoke from his position.

"That's not all. Look at his hand and you'll understand better."

Yaxley only needed one glance at Harry's legacy ring to understand. His hard face split into a wide grin.

"The Potter boy. This really is my good fortune. Maybe I'll be spared after all."

Harry wrinkled his nose.

"I don't understand what you mean."

"Use your head, boy. You're the Boy-Who-Lived and people will follow what you do. Once word gets out that you're big into fencing, countless others will take it up trying to imitate you. This could mean a rebirth for the art in England, and a boon for my business. I'd have probably starved to death without the Malfoy family's patronage during these recent lean years."

"Well…you're welcome, I suppose."

"Much obliged. I'll make sure you get the finest piece this shop has ever crafted. But first I'll need to know the blade type you favor."

Lucius stood up and strode over to the counter as well.

"He currently uses a saber but my wish is to see him adapt to a larger two-handed blade as his primary. A standard one-handed blade is too short for one with his stature. My personal vision is for him to use either a Scottish claymore or standard bastard sword and also have a custom fencing saber to be used in tournaments where particular standards are enforced. That will be as far as I go. I shall not place him in competitions that require him to use a foil or epee. Both restrict his repertoire far too heavily."

The swordsmith Yaxley shook his head in obvious disagreement.

"You've got the right idea in making his size work for him, but such a weak-arsed appeal to strength ain't gonna accomplish anything. Better to go all-out with it and have him take up a real Germanic Zweihander like the one that my father used in combat back during Grindelwald's day. I see two options. First, we could use an enormous heavy blade. Perhaps five feet long or thereabouts and train him to use it only with two hands. Or we might try something a mite shorter at maybe four feet. We can use a light alloy and my father's trademark design as a template and he should be able to adapt it to a single hand as needed. That would be really unique I think. He will need that saber also."

Lucius hummed and nodded. Harry was a bit annoyed that he wasn't being included in the debate all even though it regarded his sword. Still, he liked the idea. A gallant and powerful knight's sword correlated perfectly with his overall personality.

"And now for the core. Harry, you'll need to remind me about your wand components."

"A bamboo shell and peach blossoms stained in siren's blood as the core, sir."

Yaxley snorted and smirked ruefully.

"Oriental ingredients...you and my worthless son would be like peas in a pod."

"I should think not, Hephaestus. That irresponsible drunkard won't be coming anywhere near the boy so long as I have any say in the matter. I suppose he's gotten arrested again. At least he's not squandering your hard-earned gold at his gambling dens and brothels whilst in a Ministry detention cell."

"His gold, actually. He does make a decent living doing odd jobs and working as a hired wand. Just he tosses it all away on booze and women and then sloshes back here expecting me to feed and shelter him. He got jailed again two nights ago for fighting with an Auror while drunk. I'm letting him stew in prison for a while this time. It won't do any good but at least I'll have some peace. I'll go and bail him out after Christmas."

Harry was immediately interested in this phantom character. While whoring and gambling were beneath one with his refinement, he was always attracted to an existence without any real responsibility. Regardless, the person wasn't present and so asking more about him would be pointless and counterproductive given Mister Malfoy's obvious opinion regarding him. Lucius seemed displeased with the conversation and beckoned Harry away.

"Well then, I think we have a general idea as to what we need. I'll just leave the actual design to you, Yaxley. I must demand however that the result be both powerful and aesthetically pleasing. He may well end up as our art's ambassador and his weapon must naturally reflect that. Only the absolute best will do. Now come along, Harry. It'll soon be dark and we need to get you home."

Harry put up no protest, both stifled by the dirty atmosphere in the forge and wholly unwilling to be in Knockturn Alley after sunset. The road was deserted when the two emerged from the shop. Lucius put a hand on the younger wizard's shoulder and Apparated away. They reappeared at the Evans estate's front door in Surrey. Harry said farewell to his trainer and entered the mansion, barely unable to contain his anticipation. He walked over the threshold envisioning hot scented baths and being waited on like a king in his juvenile mind, all independence learned during the school term cast aside.

(End Chapter Ten)

**Author's Note: Hey, I'm alive again. No real excuses for the slow updates except that I'm currently on another video game binge. Not a whole lot accomplished in this chapter, but sometimes I think that these minor conversations are important to flesh out the characters. Heavy emphasis on the Harry/Lucius relationship, which will be important throughout this series, especially in the sequel when Harry is a bit more grown up and politically important. The next chapter will probably be a short one outlining Harry's actual Christmas, and the one after will feature the New Year's formal. I'm figuring on maybe five or so total to finish out the year, as there's not too terribly much worth mentioning between the return to Hogwarts and the Philosopher's Stone incident. The Yaxley in the shop is not the same Death Eater that participated in the Hogwarts raid in the sixth book. That individual is the jailed son, who is a character that I envision having much fun with later.**

**Those clamoring for something on my other story, there should be that short little interlude coming up later today or tomorrow, which will be followed by a full update and then probably a start on my mentioned Naruto work. Hope this satisfies people somewhat, and please leave me nice long reviews to help keep my muse from absconding again.**


	11. Guardian Angel

_Harry was immediately interested in this phantom character. While whoring and gambling were beneath one with his refinement, he was always attracted to an existence without any real responsibility. Regardless, the person wasn't present and so asking more about him would be pointless and counterproductive given Mister Malfoy's obvious opinion regarding him. Lucius seemed displeased with the conversation and beckoned Harry away._

_"Well then, I think we have a general idea as to what we need. I'll just leave the actual design to you, Yaxley. I must demand however that the result be both powerful and aesthetically pleasing. He may well end up as our art's ambassador and his weapon must naturally reflect that. Only the absolute best will do. Now come along, Harry. It'll soon be dark and we need to get you home."_

_Harry put up no protest, both stifled by the dirty atmosphere in the forge and wholly unwilling to be in Knockturn Alley after sunset. The road was deserted when the two emerged from the shop. Lucius put a hand on the younger wizard's shoulder and Apparated away. They reappeared at the Evans estate's front door in Surrey. Harry said farewell to his trainer and entered the mansion, unable to contain his anticipation. He walked over the threshold envisioning hot scented baths and being waited on like a king in his juvenile mind, all independence learned during the school term cast aside._

**Chapter Ten: An Unannounced Visit – A New Focus**

Disclaimer: If you've seen it before, it belongs to J.K. Rowling. Otherwise, it's mine. Naturally, I'm making no money off this. Am I the only one that finds these things to be extremely repetitive and pointless?

* * *

On December the twenty-ninth, several days removed from Yule, a certain dandy caricature materialized above the cobblestone street in Diagon Alley. Harry had been unable to sleep several nights ago and had searched out his mother's old experimental Charms notes in his closet and started rummaging through to see whether or not they contained anything to occupy his time. He had been delighted to come across some rudimentary instructions pertaining to Portkey design. Since then he had experimented vigorously with making small ones, using them to move between rooms and wings and his grandmother's estate, using his mother's old wand in order to avoid being annoyed by the Ministry and its inane regulations. He didn't want to have to bother Lucius with clearing whatever legal mess that he might get into otherwise, seeing as the aristocrat was already preoccupied with dealing with his own clan's issues well through the New Year. Once he had broken the short distance model down to a science, he made an attempt at a stronger one charmed to take him to Diagon Alley. Since he couldn't visit Draco, the young prodigy decided instead to drop in upon another companion. Only when he arrived, he noticed that he was not standing upon anything solid. 

"Good heavens!"

Harry squeaked like a little girl upon realizing that his Portkey had deposited him close to ten feet in the air. He waved his arms about in distress as he made the inevitable descent to the ground. He didn't meet cobblestone, but instead landed on something almost as hard. His human cushion was dressed in an old and worn red training tunic with white embroidery. The robe was tied with a heavy rope that was inlaid with large brass bells that would jingle noisily as the enormous strongman walked. He had long spiked blonde hair that cascaded in an unkempt mess near to his waist and blue eyes that held an almost electric potential. Overall he was a most intimidating sight, and he wasn't at all pleased about having somebody resting on him.

"Oi! Get the bloody 'Ell offa me, ye prissy lil' wanker!"

The man's breath reeked like cheap liquor, and he was dirty and uncouth all around. Harry viewed his very presence as revolting. The young dandy scrambled upright and backed away as though the man were carrying the plague. Without even stopping to apologize, the young aristocrat picked up his things and bolted around the corner. The man was as much a powerhouse magically as he was physically. Harry could sense the energy teeming outward when they were connected. Little did he know then that he and towering blonde miscreant he had crashed onto would soon cross paths once again.

Once he had moved a good distance, Harry shuddered and sanitized his clothing with a quick spell. He was dressed as eccentrically as usual with his ensemble highlighted by his trademark cape and gaudy hat, but now he had a Lucius-ish cane to accompany his cape as well. The Malfoys had sent him the walking stick as a Christmas present. The wood was an elegantly stained and scented cherry topped with a gold strutting peacock head that matched his cape clasp exactly. The cane also had an inner compartment in which Harry could store his wand. By doing so the young wizard could use the walking apparatus to do spellwork. Beyond these accessories he wore a matching pearl bracelet and necklace and a jade green silk robe embroidered with gold thread in a lotus blossom pattern that was tied with a luxurious red sash. His cloth shoes were likewise embroidered in gold. His long hair was plaited and his nails manicured and scented. Having his attendants to make him up in the morning was something that he had devoutly missed during the school term. He hadn't looked anywhere near so handsome in months.

He needed a moment's thought to recall his destination but reached it quickly once he remembered the way. His extravagant look drew more than a little attention as he marched down the alleys alone but he never stopped moving long enough to bask in it. There weren't very people out shopping on this cold late December morning anyway. Outside the Changs' little apothecary a small Chinese girl was sweeping snow and other debris away with her back to the handsome young noble. He watched her work a moment and then moved to where his shadow covered her and got her attention.

"Excuse me. I hate to impose, but…"

The girl turned with a smile. She couldn't be much older than six or seven, but Harry thought her to be quite the pretty little creature. At least, she would grow up to be quite attractive someday. Cho's parents were blessed. They might not have much money, but they were extremely wealthy in the more important sense. Having two such beauties as progeny could only mean good luck later on down the line.

"I'm sorry, but our shop doesn't open until noon on weekends."

"No, no…I'm here to see your sister. Please tell Cho that I'm here."

Cho's little sister regarded him with a quizzical expression.

"I don't even know who you are. She's busy tending the herb garden anyway."

Harry grinned idiotically and cut his most ridiculously overdramatic pose.

"But you're mistaken. You do know me, everybody does. I'm Harry Potter."

The little Chang stared at Harry a moment and then glared.

"You're a liar! You're not Ha Li Po Te! He's a great wizard, not a girly weirdo like you!"

Harry was quite flabbergasted at this response. Nobody had ever been so direct in insulting him. Still, to be compared to a girl was much more generous compliment than he could have hoped to hear. It showed that this girl understood and appreciated his natural beauty and refinement that surpassed any dirty common male, or at least so the somewhat delusional young aristocrat thought. She stood there with her hands on her hips and an impish scowl on her face. The gesture might have been intimidating were she taller than the dandy's belly. He kept smiling as he responded.

"I appreciate the compliment, but I really am Harry Potter. Please bring Cho out here and she'll be able to clear up everything."

"You can't trick me, you cheat! I know what I'll do. I'm gonna go and get my parents and they'll hex you all the way into Knockturn Alley. You'd better run away while you still can!"

With that the girl threw down her broom and ran into the shop yelling in rapid Chinese. Harry was a bit spooked and actually did contemplate leaving, but he had nowhere to go and didn't even think to make another Portkey to return home. He sighed and stood in place twirling his peacock-headed cane absentmindedly. Soon enough the entire family came out. Cho and her parents all recognized that Harry was authentic. Their mother rounded on the youngest daughter and berated her with a waspish tone. Cho eyed her school roommate's new walking cane with distaste.

"Now see what that temper has done, you little bitch! You've insulted an honored guest!"

"Quick, kowtow and apologize to our visitor."

That was Mister Chang speaking. Harry really didn't want to see such a pretty little thing made to kneel to him. He was actually impressed that she had stood up to him. Not many were willing to either at home or at Hogwarts. Besides, he had no patience with conventions and halting this pardon ritual would mean circumventing one.

"I was really to blame, she didn't know. Please let it slide on my account this time."

Mrs. Chang seemed unconvinced and reluctant but was compelled to let the matter go.

"Please come inside and relax at any rate. We already have tea on the boil."

Harry was led into the shop. The bottom level looked much the same as when he had shopped there when purchasing his Hogwarts supplies months ago, except that there were some herbs growing in indoor pots now that the weather had turned too cold to keep them outdoors. The young dandy thought the medicinal aroma to be quite nice and invigorating. The ingredients didn't stink like those in Professor Snape's potions laboratories. Suitable ventilation could do wonders. He was led upstairs into a bedroom and made to sit down on the _kang_ while a delicious smelling tea simmered on the nearby stove. This brick sleeping platform was covered with cushions and an interior pipeline connected to the heating stove to keep it warm and toasty. This heating sensation could have easily enough been generated through magic but the pure natural aspect made this much cozier. This was what hardheaded purebloods like Lucius and Draco would never understand. Sometimes Muggle inventions like these old Chinese warming beds could surpass anything done with spells.

Cho's sister was ordered to serve the tea while the Ravenclaw Seeker and her younger brother sat next to Harry. Little Ping Chang didn't seem to mind the task, still being quite thoroughly humiliated about having caused such a ruckus outside earlier on, not to mention having snubbed wizarding Britain's hero. On the contrary, the girl seemed pleased to be granted an opportunity to redeem her unseemly behavior. Meanwhile their parents quickly excused themselves to go to the nearby grocer's and Disapparated away.

"You've got our entire house at sixes and sevens now, Harry."

"I'm sorry. I only wanted to visit you. Lounging about at home was getting boring."

As much as it saddened him to admit it, that was somewhat the case. Four months ago the young dandy wouldn't have even entertained the notion that there could be anything better to do than lounging about his quarters and passing the time idling with his attendants. A term spent at Hogwarts had changed matters. Harry was now getting quite acclimated to being an active person and mingling with various other people on an everyday basis. He still loved his girls dearly and would have them alongside him all the time were it possible, but being Muggles they didn't really understand his magical world well enough to keep conversations very interesting beyond the usual catching up. His previous decadent living practices were now something he could appreciate only in measured doses. That much had become clear over the past week. He sighed inwardly at this realization. As he became more and more a grown wizard, this invisible river separating him and his beloved attendants could only grow wider and deeper.

"Well, you should have at least owled. I hope you've had a nice Yule though."

Harry closed his eyes and shook his head, the motion causing his intricately plaited long hair to sway about like a willow branch in a brisk wind. His tone became much more serious than usual. There was another reason driving his need to escape home and call on somebody. The old lady's condition was now becoming very depressing. Her health had continued to deteriorate while the young prodigy was away at school and now she could hardly spend more than an hour or so upright and then had to return to bed. Despite his advanced magical abilities, he was unable to cure her. Not even Merlin could circumvent death and so Harry was powerless. The entire situation was grave and vexing.

"My grandmother's health keeps getting worse. Things haven't been so upbeat this year."

"I'm so sorry to hear about that. Maybe you can tell me what presents you got instead."

Most observers might have thought Cho's changing such a serious topic into something so materialistic to be exceedingly callous behavior, but not Harry, and she understood him well enough to know this. He was quite pleased to be able to stop thinking about the depressing topic at hand, and as mercurial as his moods were he perked up immediately and grinned broadly.

"Several things, though I especially appreciated yours..."

She had sent him the book that she had been reading when he met her on the Hogwarts Express back in September. The entire thing was in Chinese. The present was meant to represent a rather subtle challenge, something not uncommon in Ravenclaw House. He would have to learn the language in order to read the book. Translation spells were always rather inaccurate, especially when going between two languages as dissimilar as English and Cantonese. And so he would answer by making time to learn. He needed new pursuits to challenge his mind anyway, as the school curriculum wasn't doing so. Becoming multilingual was paramount in becoming a real intellectual. He only knew two tongues at the moment: English and the Latin that his grandmother had ordered him to learn as a child. Knowing the latter had an unintentional bonus in making his spell tomes much easier to comprehend. The young aristocrat had also picked up some rudimentary French through his maid Christine over the years, but he could hardly be described as skilled there.

"…I also got an Invisibility Cloak, but the message that came with it was rather vague."

"Those are really expensive, I think. I can't imagine who would buy you one."

"Apparently it once belonged to my dad. I only wish the sender had signed their name."

Cho's little sister replenished Harry's tea bowl again, smiling as she handed it back to the young aristocrat. To think that mere moments ago she was berating him as a liar and a cheat almost made him chuckle. He was quite delighted that his name carried so much respect in this household the demure little imp would go into such a terrible temper due to an imagined slight upon it. He had never once chosen to be a celebrity, but he wasn't at all averse to enjoying the splendor that came alongside it.

"And then you would have had to respond with an even more expensive present."

"Not in this case, as the person was only restoring my own property to me. I should have liked to have been able to thank them, though."

Conversation continued in that vein until Cho's parents returned. Her mother then called her into the kitchens to help her prepare a large and sumptuous lunch, leaving Harry alone on the _kang_ with her two younger siblings. She gave him an unreadable look as she departed. Mister Chang had already gone downstairs to prepare the shop to open. Their Sunday business hours would commence soon.

"Tell me all about how you beat He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, big brother."

Harry drained his tea and turned to regard the speaker. Cho's brother hadn't said anything up to that point, rather starting awestruck at the richly dressed dandy as he and the eldest child made small talk. He was a handsome and delicate-looking boy who had long black hair much like the young prodigy's own, except the Chang progeny's was tied up in a bun rather than hanging in a long plaited ponytail. The Chinese boy certainly didn't appear to be the sort that could be at all suited to the physical rigors involved with tending and maintaining an herbal apothecary. He thought it rather deplorable that such a meticulous child would be calloused and spoiled due to manual labor. And the boy had called him 'big brother.' Harry had no biological siblings, but were he to have a younger brother then this boy would be the sort he would want to have. The handsome child was much worthier to be his relation than Petunia's ignorant boar hog at least.

"That story isn't all its cracked up to be, little one, and I don't even know your name."

"Chang Paoyu is my name. Tell me another story then."

Harry was no adept with the Chinese language, but he did know what that particular name translated to. He supposed it came due to the ornate jade necklace that the boy wore. The stone was inscribed with several ideograms that the young dandy didn't understand but he could comprehend that the intricate little bauble was extremely valuable. A child in the Chang boy's economic station would not be expected to have something like this. Harry assumed that it was an heirloom or something similar.

"…Precious Jade. That seems most suitable. I'll have to tell you my grandest tale."

Harry began talking about his encounter with Albus Dumbledore at Gringotts, embellishing his recounting in the true Gilderoy Lockhart style. According to his tale, accentuated by the proper dramatic hand motions, he battled the old archmage in a duel that lasted hours and drew all the goblins to watch in amazement. And in the end a beaten Headmaster surrendered his wand and begged mercy, and the magnanimous boy prince accepted and the two had been close comrades ever since. Paoyu Chang seemed to be Harry's own mirror in gullibility and took this most ridiculous tall tale as the gospel truth.

"Wow, that's so awesome! You're the greatest and strongest ever."

"Not to mention the most handsome and captivating."

Harry took yet more tea and sent a smile and a wink at the younger sister, who seemed both amused at the young hero's energy and creativity and annoyed with her one year older brother over his being such a believing simpleton. She smirked back and rolled her eyes at the excited boy bouncing up and down on the _kang_. Suddenly the boy became sullen and quiet. Such a rapid mood change was another similarity to the dandy Harry.

"I wish I could be more like you. I've always been rather weak."

With his usual cavalier attitude, Harry had the urge to help this handsome child.

"You can be, and we'll start with your look. Image is everything, you know."

Harry stood up and removed his peacock feather hat and cape. He tapped each clothing article with his cane and shrank them to suit the much smaller Paoyu Chang. He had been planning to purchase a new cape soon anyway, or he might perhaps turn out his new Invisibility Cloak and wear it that way. The material shimmered like a rainbow and suited him quite nicely, and it wouldn't do at all now to allow others to marvel at it. True beauty was mean to be appreciated. He had no interest at all in actually making his dad's cloak serve some practical purpose. The hat was something he had created on Halloween night using his broken coronet and it could be reproduced with any old thing.

"…There we go. Now you can look like a real hero."

The other boy stood and tried to put on the cape. Harry sealed it with his own golden peacock adornment. Draco had sent him a much nicer and more ornate cloak clasp encrusted with emeralds as a Yule present anyway. He had given the Malfoy heir an enchanted silver dagger that he had run across at some expensive boutique in return. The shopkeeper had said that it was enchanted, at least. The prodigy had only been attracted to its inlaid ruby grip. Harry placed the hat on Paoyu's head as well, but observed that something still wasn't quite right. The other didn't seem to notice, though, and was as happy as a clam at high tide as his mother announced that the meal was ready and called them in to eat. He pranced out into the small dining room in a hilarious attempt at imitating Harry's walk.

"You really shouldn't indulge his imagination. Paoyu's a pain to deal with as he is."

"No harm done. Improving his style can only be a good thing. Here, these are yours."

Harry removed his pearl bracelet and the matching necklace. They were expensive adornments to most people but not even worth mentioning to one who bought rare gemstones on random shopping sprees. Ping Chang looked at the items with a raised eyebrow and eventually shook her pretty little head in the negative.

"I can't accept these. I don't even know you very well, and it would be improper."

The young dandy was displeased but dared not push the issue as he was a guest and it would be rude. He tailed the younger girl as she went into the next room. They all sat down to lunch at the small kitchen table in the little nook that served as the dining area. The meal was delicious. Harry had only eaten Chinese cuisine on one or two occasions growing up, but the taste was much better than he remembered. The young aristocrat particularly appreciated these little _wonton_ dumplings that had crab meat and cream cheese packed inside. Mrs. Chang told him that they were called Crab Rangoon when he asked. He would simply have to request that the cooks back at the Evans estate add the dumplings into the regular meal rotation. The group made small talk about Hogwarts and various other topics as they ate. Quidditch was among them, much to the honored guest's disdain. When asked what team he supported, Harry evasively named the Tornadoes as they were the only team he knew. The young dandy was eating his chicken and eggplant soup when Paoyu let out a cough and slumped down against the table with a dazed but placid expression.

"I'm getting a bit tired now, mum."

Harry watched as Cho's mother bit her lip and turned to her younger daughter.

"Help your brother into bed while I make his potion."

Mrs. Chang then sent Cho look that the Ravenclaw seemed to understand.

"Come with me, Harry. I'll show you our rear garden and we can talk some."

That was what the young dandy had wanted to begin with and so he went along without any complaint, though he did cast another look towards the suddenly ailing Paoyu as he started down the stairs, his peacock-headed cane slung over his shoulder. Cho led him out through a downstairs door into a very compact rear yard. The area was a genuine enclosure, a little box created by tall brick building walls on each perimeter boundary. No windows peered down into the area except those in the Chang apothecary, creating an ideal little romantic retreat. On one side the white plum was in blossom, and on the other a lone peach tree stood bare on a small island located inside a medium-sized lily pond. Underneath its branches sat a little red bench and the two Ravenclaws traipsed across several stepping stones to reach it. Once seated, Harry took a long moment to glance about the little garden, sighing as he took in its quaint splendor.

"This certainly is gorgeous, much better than even the orchards on our grounds."

"I think so too. I love to sit out here under the tree and read during the summer."

Harry stretched his arms and leaned back against the tree trunk with a contented smile.

"Your mum and dad are really nice too, and your brother and sister also."

Cho rolled her eyes and glared jokingly at her uninvited houseguest.

"And about that, you sure did a great job corrupting Paoyu…"

And then the look became much gentler.

"…Thank you so much. You have no idea how much meeting you meant to him."

"He did seem quite enthusiastic. He'll be a classroom terror when he goes to Hogwarts."

Cho winced as though slapped and closed her eyes.

"That's the thing. He isn't going to be able to go to Hogwarts due to his condition…"

She sighed and continued at his nonplussed expression, tears in her obsidian eyes.

"…Paoyu was born with severe magical anaemia. You saw him almost collapse at the table right then. That's not an isolated event. The magic in his body destroys his red blood cells and hampers the ability to make more. Concentrating his magic only hastens the symptoms. As it is he tires very easily and even doing simple spells could outright rupture his system and kill him. He can't remain active longer than an hour or so without rest and restorative potions. He can't even leave the house or mum's supervision. The most he can do is come out and mess about in the garden with me or Ping on some days."

Harry passed several moments staring dumbstruck at nothing. Under those constraints the boy certainly would not be able to attend school or even be a wizard at all. And his heart went out to Cho as well. How wretched her existence had been, having to cope emotionally with her brother's debilitating illness at home and then getting bullied at school as well. There seemed to be no righteousness in the world that such a sweet and gentle person had been tormented so.

"That's terrible. I don't even know what to say. I'll do anything I can to help."

"That's sweet, but there's nothing you can do. His condition has no permanent treatment. Mum spends all her time brewing his blood restoratives and Pepper-Up Potions. I do what I can to help out when I'm not at Hogwarts, but Ping's too young and inexperienced to go anything while I'm at school and dad has to tend to the shop all day. The ingredients are costly too, even at the wholesale price dad gets through the dealers. It's a good thing we have mum to brew the potionsrather than having to pay some other person or else I don't think we'd be able to manage at all, and eventually they aren't going to be enough..."

Harry was no expert with science or medical magic, but he did understand how magic worked well enough to see the inevitable situation. Magic grew stronger within the body as a wizard or witch advanced in age. Soon enough Paoyu's magic would outstrip the ability to combat the condition and he would wither away and die. Not even the extreme solution would work. Binding the boy's magic would only hamper his ability to channel it. The raw energy would still lie dormant in his body, eating away at him. The young prodigy spoke so that his companion wouldn't have to put it in words.

"His mana counts will multiply as he gets older…that would…be a big problem."

The tears were coming down now. The young prodigy didn't know what to do in this situation. He had dealt with her crying happy tears on several occasions but had never had to deal with emotional pain like this. He couldn't even control his own outbursts.

"…The Mediwizards say…they say…they say he won't live long past his teens."

The young dandy thought it so wrong that people shriveled and died, especially ones as young as Cho's adorable younger brother. As bad as his grandmother's health was, the old woman had at least been allowed the opportunity to live a long while and to see her children grown and grandchildren born. Harry hesitantly draped an arm around his companion's shoulders and let her shed her tears against him while he spoke in what he hoped was a soothing tone.

"It's going to be all right. We'll come up with some way to help him."

That seemed to be a doomed vow, but 'impossible' was a concept that simply meant nothing whatsoever to Harry James Potter. Even as a newborn he had been doing things that supposedly couldn't be done. With the proper will anything was possible. That was how magic essentially operated, at least within his inexperienced reasoning. He surreptitiously grasped his cane and in a rare sneaky move tapped the crying girl's shoulder, silently casting a Cheering Charm. He put very little power behind it so that she wouldn't realize that he had used a spell on her. He couldn't bear seeing her so lost in hopelessness and despair. Her tears gradually stopped and she raised her head.

"I'm sorry about this, Harry. I wasn't meaning to make a bloody mess all over your robes."

Harry snorted and tapped his own robes, cleaning the tearstains with ease. He would rather keep the robe and never clean it again, but to hold onto priceless teardrops that were shed over another would be perverse and wrong, like polluting something sacred.

"Nothing to worry about. As rough as his lot seems he's still quite lucky to have someone like you shedding precious tears over him, and your sister too. With two angels watching over him like this something will happen to save him, at least that's what I think."

She cocked her head and stared at him as though he had lost his mind, but then seemed to let the odd comment slide. The young dandy had said still stranger things in the past. He was being sincere in what he said, and only hoped that he would have somebody like her to shed tears over him when he reached the end. To have beautiful girls' tears create a great river to sweep him away into eternity, that would be the ideal way to die.

"You've done every bit as much to help him without even knowing it."

Harry unconsciously threaded a hand into the girl's glossy black hair as he stared without blinking at the white plum blossoms across the garden. Only a little sunlight entered the secluded little enclosure. The resulting image could only be described as sublime.

"But I've only just now met him. Surely that can't be put on the same level as your care."

She moved about and stared into his eyes. At that moment a light snow began coming down. The raven-haired prodigy watched the dropping ice crystals gather in her hair.

"It can, because you represent hope and beating the odds. You survived a Killing Curse cast by the strongest evil wizard to exist in centuries. Seeing you in person gives us all hope that he'll somehow come through this like you did that night. That's why Ping got so upset when she thought you were an impostor, ridiculing everything we believe in."

They passed several hours talking about anything and everything. Cho was pleased to hear about his opportunity to take his two OWL's early. That was what helped to distinguish true Ravenclaws relative to mere grasping bookworms like Hermione Granger. The latter would have been green with envy that somebody else had been granted a chance to excel and not her. People in his illustrious House mostly didn't begrudge one another at all. He also learned more about her post-Hogwarts plans. She wanted to become a Mediwitch and get into medical magic research, so that she could devise ways to assist her brother and people like him. Quidditch was only a hobby that she didn't intend to pursue beyond school despite her natural talent. Her dream was what had motivated her to tough it out and return to Hogwarts this year despite having been alone and miserable all through the last. The young aristocrat became even more solidly entrenched in his conviction to help her along in any way that he could. A bird soaring in the sky overhead brought his mind back to something important. He reached into his robes and withdrew a small velvet case tied with a gold ribbon and handed it to Cho.

"I wasn't sure whether or not you all celebrated Yule at home, so I decided to wait and give this to you in person."

She looked at the box and then back at him with a smile.

"We do, actually. We take any chance we can to be happy and celebrate, but it was considerate to assume that we might not."

"I saw this while I was out Christmas shopping and knew it was made to be yours."

The necklace was pure platinum, a raven on a chain with a deep blue sapphire lodged inside its grasping talons. She was quite speechless as she laced it around her neck and the young dandy clasped it. He was going to ask her to come to the upcoming Ministry Ball as his date and also to come to Surrey and spend the week at his estate but reconsidered the idea. With Paoyu's illness and Cho's being away so much at school as well as their mother's constant work in keeping the condition at bay and Mister Chang's troubled with bringing in enough gold to keep meals on the table and meet his son's heavy medical expenses, the child aristocrat imagined that they had precious little time together. Harry was unwilling to burden them even more, seeing as he got to be around her almost all the time at Hogwarts anyway and the term started again in about a week.

"This and my Firebolt…you have to stop spending like this, Harry."

Harry's lip curled in annoyance. He always hated hearing such mundane talk. She kissed him on the cheek upon noticing his indignant expression, at which point he sighed in exasperation and crossed his arms. He couldn't remain irritated with her at all.

"Don't worry so much. It's not as though I'm going bankrupt."

"But you're squandering your inheritance. Promise me, no more expensive presents."

He was compelled to acquiesce, as much as he hated to. He got the vibe that she wouldn't accept the next one he bought. As spoiled as he was, Harry couldn't understand why she would be so bothered by his spending habits. He had never been through lean straits as she had and so seeing Galleons thrown away needlessly didn't upset him as it did her. Regardless, the setting sun told him that it was time to take his leave. They went back inside and upstairs where gave his regards to the ailing boy, exhorting him to be kind and compliant with his mother and sisters and to keep his chin up. As he recharmed his Portkey and departed, he made up his mind to owl his goblin account manager at Gringotts and request that a sizable monthly sum be added to the Chang vault at his expense. He might not be able to cure Paoyu's illness now, but he could at least do something to alleviate their income burdens in the meantime.

* * *

New Year's Eve came about slowly. Cho's sadness and tough situation had kept him quite thoroughly depressed upon his return to Surrey. He had shared his troubles with his grandmother upon calling on the old lady, and she had thoroughly agreed that sharing his resources to help them was the proper thing to do. He had sent Disenchantment to the bank with his letter immediately upon waking the next morning. Now there wasn't much time remaining until the Malfoys would be arriving to conduct him to the Ministry. He would be traveling in their carriage in the proper pureblood manner. He was really in no mood to attend a dry social event, but there was nothing he could do about it. 

"Stop wiggling around, Harry. Let me get these robes on right."

Harry whined at Kim in response as she tried to get him into his Twillfit and Tatting's dress robes. At least that horrid tailor had been graced with enough aesthetic sense to place some gold embroidery on the abominable garment, though it was still most unattractive. He sincerely hoped that these dress standards weren't a litmus test indicating how austere and Victorian high magical society was.

"I can't help it. They're so droll that my body naturally resists wearing them."

"Don't be ridiculous. I still can't believe how built you've gotten."

The image in his large vanity mirror did display his rather altered body. Four months' hard daily training under Lucius Malfoy's exhaustive workout regimen had produced visible results. He wasn't cut out to be an exercise model, thank Merlin, but he wasn't small or weak either. His attendants had all been quite impressed, though he couldn't comprehend the reason. He thought that he had been rather handsomer in his previous state. They always came to watch him train in the mornings as well, which made him a bit nervous. As much as he liked attention, he wasn't accustomed to doing strenuous exercise with such an attractive audience.

"And you still have those natural good looks too."

That was Sophia, who was plaiting his hair. He could always count on his girls to appeal to his sizable ego and cheer him up. Kim got his robe on and Alyssa tied it with the gold sash that he had brought out. He also put on a gold necklace encrusted with a ruby. The repressive dress code at this bloody dance wouldn't allow him to get away with much accessorizing but he intended to do the most that he could. All the gold matched with the trimming on his robes and with his cane, so it couldn't be deemed improper by their ridiculous standards. The buxom girl ran her hands lasciviously across his waistline while she straightened the sash. The gesture wasn't overt enough to get her into trouble but still made the young dandy's cheeks heat up.

"You sure are growing up quickly. I mean, you've not even been in school a year and you're getting invited to big social events."

Harry rolled his eyes and almost spat in disgust.

"It's because I'm the bloody Boy-Who-Lived. I don't mind the recognition but I'd rather people saw the person rather than the title."

"But tonight they will. That's why you have to look your very best."

"Even my worst is better than their best, and I only care to dazzle you all."

Melody shook her head with a laugh.

"Such talk…mind your grandmother's wishes and make a good impression tonight."

"I shall do as you command, melodic mistress."

The maids weren't used to Harry's new random sarcasm, so that statement met with some raised eyebrows. Sophia made the last touches on his hair and he was ready to go. And right on time as it happened.

"Some'zing is headed 'zis way. Come and see, 'Arry."

Harry puttered over towards his bedroom's balcony door and stood next to his platinum blonde French attendant, looking outward at the darkened skyline. Something was indeed on a collision coarse with the estate's grounds, approaching on the northwestern horizon through the air and beginning its descent. It was an ornate carriage drawn by no less than six silvery winged horses. Pegasi, and very gorgeous ones at that. Harry had never seen the mythical creatures until now, though he had once ridden in this very same buggy. He had been unconscious at that time, however, collapsed due to magical exertion.

"How exquisite. I must have a carriage like that."

"I can't see a thing."

"Same here. I think you're getting delusional, Christine."

Harry didn't even need to look at the heraldry emblazoned upon the side to know who the carriage belonged to. The green and silver coloring scheme gave the mystery away at once. He wasn't surprised that Kim and Alyssa wouldn't be able to see it. Lucius would have made certain that his traveling buggy was charmed to remain invisible to Muggles. What was curious was that Christine could. The young aristocrat had long been a bit suspicious that the French beauty was a Veela. The way that her very presence melted men into absolute buttery goo had always struck him as strange. Her being able to see through the magic was the evidence that he needed to conclude. He was a bit annoyed with her about having concealed something like this, and relieved that nobody had ever angered her enough to make her turn into a bird. Her slip was pretty obvious, so maybe she had decided that now was the right time to let him know about her magical heritage.

"Well, that's my escort. I'd best be headed downstairs. Keep me in your prayers."

"Enough with the melodramatics, Harry. One night's not gonna kill you."

Harry grinned and grabbed his cane, not even listening to hear who made that comment. He glanced over at Christine, giving her a long look that said they were going to need to have a talk later. He then heard an Apparition crack outside and saw Lucius Malfoy standing on the porch and striding towards the main entranceway. Without another word he waved goodbye to his attendants and started downstairs to meet the waiting aristocrat.

(End Chapter Ten)

**Author's Note: Two months later…yeah, I know I've been neglecting my Harry Potter stories to indulge my new Naruto habit. This chapter was originally going to go all the way through the formal, but I decided to wait and devote an entire one to the dance, and spend some time with Cho and her family here. I felt that I'd been placing Lucius and the Malfoys in the spotlight a long time, and I wanted to shine the spotlight on some other characters as well. There's a reason for Cho's brother and his illness, and I might as well come right out with it. I need some reason for Harry to need to go after the Philosopher's Stone later. He's not the Gryffindor golden boy here, and doesn't have the reason of saving the stone from Snape to motivate him.**

**I have started a forum for discussion regarding my works or whatever else. Link's in my profile. Can't think of too much else to say here that doesn't involve spoiling things in future chapters. Hope you all enjoy this belated update, and please review.**


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